


Stale By Noon

by Qinderella



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Age Play, Alternatively: what if Anakin got Obi-Wan pregnant instead of Padme, Angsty!Obi-Wan, Bottom!Obi-Wan, Exile, Force Ghost Qui-Gon Jinn, Happy Ending, Hints of dark!Anakin, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi still can't have families, Leia Kenobi, Lots of sex of all varieties, Luke Kenobi - Freeform, M/M, Mpreg, Protective!anakin, Strange power dynamics, Switching, The midichlorians sometimes allow for pregnancy or something, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-06-09 20:39:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 106,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6922558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qinderella/pseuds/Qinderella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during Episode III, but uses elements and a few plot lines from The Clone Wars. Basically, what if Anakin got Obi-Wan pregnant instead of Padme? Set over the course of 9 months of pregnancy and features angst, identity issues, and above all, romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Conception

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so, this is my fic for Obikin Big Bang 2016. I just have a few notes, please read them before reading the fic!  
> As far as timeline stuff goes, this is supposed to be canon divergent Episode III, but I have pulled a few plot lines from The Clone Wars series as well, which I know isn't compliant with the initial timeline, so this is just a slightly altered timeline. Everything through Episode II still remains the same, though, aside from Anakin and Padme's secret marriage. I pulled from the novelization of ROTS in some scenes and kept some OG dialogue, for consistency's sake, not attempt at plagiarism.  
> For now, I'm just posting an intro to this fic because I still need to proofread and edit a few scenes, but I will have the rest of the fic up within the next few days!  
> Thanks for reading!

When Obi-Wan Kenobi woke up with a start, the bile already rising in his throat, all he could do was throw the comforter off of himself and bolt to the freshener, and even as it was, he still didn’t completely avoid throwing up on himself. Before he could drop his head over the toilet or sink, his mouth flooded with vile tasting warmth and his lips involuntarily parted in horror and urgency to get the substance out of his mouth, allowing the vomit to dribble down his chin, and onto his nightshirt. The smell and taste only amplified his nausea, and he gagged again. Thankfully, he’d made it to the toilet before the next bout came, and he coughed up more liquids than he remembered consuming, grimacing at the taste...and texture.  
It was certainly unpleasant, that much he was aware of as he wretched, and instead of wondering what was going on, why his body was betraying him in such a definite way, all he could do for a few minutes was think about how grateful he was that this hadn’t happened before. Illness wasn’t entirely _unheard of_ for Jedis, but it certainly wasn’t common either. As he wiped his mouth, he pressed his other hand to his forehead. It felt normal, slightly warm to the touch, as it did every other day, and he “hmph”-ed quietly to himself as he mused over different types of possible illnesses that wouldn’t include a fever, but would include nausea. The list seemed fairly short, but then again, Obi-Wan was not a healer. He resolved that he would stop in med-bay, after his short, consultative session with Master Yoda. ...that he was going to be late for if he spent all morning on his knees and nursing his head over the toilet bowl. He groaned and sat back on his heels. His stomach gave another defiant rumble, and he took a deep breath, managing to quell it down to a soft discomfort. Maybe it was something he had eaten, he thought faintly as he laid one hand atop his stomach and stood slowly. He and Anakin had eaten the exact same thing the previous day, he mused, so perhaps it would be worth checking in with his padawan to see if he was suffering from any similar ailments. Anakin was probably still asleep, and Obi-Wan was sure that getting to sleep in was the only thing preventing his padawan from complaining endlessly about not being included in this meeting. It was a simple debriefing, Obi-Wan would certainly relay any pertinent information shared by Master Yoda with Anakin, but his young padawan’s paranoia and insecurities always led him to distrust and assuming the worst, even from Obi-Wan at times. However, when Obi-Wan informed him that Master Yoda wasn’t requiring his presence at 6 the following morning, he’d received no complaints from Anakin, only a vaguely smug smile, and it had made Obi-Wan roll his eyes in spite of himself. Anakin had then idly began to complain about Master Yoda’s fondness for meetings at the break of dawn, though it rarely affected him he would still complain until the day he died, and Obi-Wan simply told him to quit complaining, as he couldn’t bring himself to disagree. He wasn’t as much of a morning person as he let on.

  
Especially not on this morning. It was hard enough to rise with the suns, throwing up all the liquids he’d consumed over what felt like the past three days was simply too much to deal with so early in the day. Still half-nauseous, he trudged through the motions of brushing his teeth, combing his hair, splashing cold water on his face, and changing into a more casual and loose tunic, frowning as he clipped his lightsaber to his belt. Despite changing, and washing his face, he felt as though he could still smell the vomit, though he knew it was most likely psychosomatic. Nonetheless, it repulsed him and his stomach gave another churn. He smelled his tunic and it smelled clean enough, vomit just burned at the back of his nose and throat, and he leaned over the sink and gargled more hot water.

  
It didn’t completely take care of the smell, or sooth the burning, but it helped a little bit, and if he dawdled in the freshener much longer, he was going to be late for the consultation with Master Yoda. Obi-Wan didn’t like to be late.

  
So he pushed himself away from the sink, and headed out of his room, walking briskly, but not hurriedly, towards The Temple. Mentally, he went over his checklist for the day. After meeting with Yoda, the day was relatively clear. The ideal day to get a lot of busywork done. He would need to check in with Anakin at some point, to debrief about any upcoming missions and also to discuss Ahsoka. Anakin had complained endlessly about not being made a Jedi master, how _unreasonable_ , how _unfair_ it was, then when Master Joda assigned him a padawan learner, Anakin had thrown a whole new fit. He didn’t want a padawan, he didn’t have the _time_ , he was still doing so much for his Jedi master, he couldn’t _possibly_ take on his own padawan, it just wasn’t possible. This had not inclined the Jedi Council any further in his favour, and when Obi-Wan had said that he was completely fine with Anakin taking on his own padawan, even as cantankerous as Anakin liked to be, he knew when to fold his cards. He had reluctantly and bitterly agreed to take on the young Ahsoka, and now Obi-Wan’s only concern was what kind of Jedi master Anakin would be to her. He needed his apprentice to not only give her a skilled, proper training, but also an attentive and fruitful part. That was the part that he was worried about. Anakin could be coerced into doing things, but he could not be forced to do them gracefully.

  
Obi-Wan strode through the temple, robe billowing out gently around his ankles as he walked, nodding occasionally to a passing jedi knight or an apprentice, before he finally made it to the meeting room that Master Yoda was currently meditating in. Obi-Wan hovered outside the door, waiting patiently, until he felt Yoda’s steady force signature gently unfurl from the room and prompt him to come inside.

  
He entered the spacious room, stopping at the bottom of the few steps down into the lowered floor. Yoda was in the middle of that floor, levitating a few inches, eyes shut and back to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan waited in silence for almost three minutes, but the Jedi master remained silent. Obi-Wan couldn’t even hear him breathe or feel his force signature.

  
“Master Yoda--”

  
“Changed are you, Knight Kenobi,”

  
Obi-Wan was startled, not only by being cut off, but also by the cryptic, rather blunt, greeting he received. “I...am I?” He asked, a little sheepishly, as he felt he should have understood whatever underlying implications Yoda was laying down. Changed, though? They’d only just had a council meeting two days prior, when they had asked Anakin to accept Ahsoka. How much could a person change in two days?

  
“Mmm.” was all Yoda said in reply, and he finally lowered himself to the ground, and turned around to squint as Obi-Wan with those large, blank yet knowing eyes. How eyes could express so much and so little was a mystery to Obi-Wan, there seemed to be a whole galaxy in there, yet he couldn’t find one constellation.

  
“...I understand that Anakin is supposed to begin his training with Ashoka today.” Obi-Wan finally opted to change the subject, as there was no point in trying to riddle with Yoda. If the Jedi master wanted to tell him what he was talking about, he would.

  
“Mm...so he is.” Yoda replied, “Worried are you?”

  
Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “You know my hesitations about Anakin having an apprentice. He is a great Jedi, I do not know that he will be a great teacher."

  
“That’s why learn he must,” Yoda replied, and Obi-Wan wasn’t sure why Yoda suddenly seemed to be Anakin’s biggest advocate. The Jedi master had made it clear on more than one occasion that he didn’t trust Anakin completely, and if Obi-Wan were being honest, he’d always gotten the impression that Yoda knew something about Anakin that Obi-Wan didn’t, that he was holding back, when they talked about Obi-Wan’s only apprentice.

  
“Be good for Anakin Ahsoka will, think I. Needs a padawan does he.” Yoda continued, and all Obi could do was nod.

  
“I will still keep an eye on him. Patience isn’t always Anakin’s greatest virtue, and in my personal experience training my padawan, patience is the virtue most frequently tested…” Then again, from their limited interactions, Ahsoka was no Anakin. No matter how generally aggravating apprentices could be, Obi couldn’t imagine that Anakin’s patience would be tested even 25% as much as his own were.

  
Yoda did not respond beyond a gravelly noise of affirmation and a nod, so Obi-Wan allowed the chamber to lapse into silence, as Yoda gazed out of one of the full length windows, before turning and squinting at Obi again, ears perking, then drooping. “Tell me, sick were you this morning Knight Kenobi?”

  
Against his will and inclination, Obi-Wan’s heart leapt in his chest. It wasn’t unbelievable that Yoda would be able to sense his illness through his force signature, but something about it unsettled him. If Yoda could sense it, did that mean it was serious?

  
Still, there was no point in lying, so instead Obi-Wan nodded. “Yes. I might have arrived to our meeting a few minutes earlier, but I was indisposed with illness…”

  
Yoda made another indistinct and noncommittal noise and Obi-Wan had to clench his fist to resist from pinching the bridge of his nose. For all that Master Yoda was wise and enlightening, he was also...annoying.

  
“Nauseous you were?” Yoda asked, though the length of the lapse in conversation should have ended discussion in Obi-Wan’s opinion. Nonetheless, he felt obligated to answer and nodded with a short, “Yes, Master Yoda.”

  
“Sick often you are, Knight Kenobi?”

  
“No, I’d say my immune system is usually infallible, like most Jedi. It takes more than a common cold to affect me.”

  
If Yoda made that low noise of appraisal one more time, Obi-Wan thought he might have a psychotic breakdown. There was a lapse of silence and Obi-Wan began to release a breath he hadn’t entirely realised he was holding, so close to being in the clear, when Yoda spoke once more.

  
“Morning sickness might you say, Knight Kenobi?”

  
The question struck a nerve deep within Obi-Wan and if he were the type to snap, this would be the moment in which he’d do so. Innocuous of a question as it was, it hit exactly the wrong spot, the place where Obi-Wan hadn't wanted to look. He’d been turning a blind eye since he woke up with his stomach churning, ignoring the niggling sensation in his stomach, ignoring that nagging at the back of his mind. _Morning sickness_. “I--” Obi-Wan spluttered, fighting against his rising, slightly irrational, anger, and clenching one of his fists for a brief second then releasing it. “I _beg_ your pardon, Master Yoda, but are we having this meeting to discuss myself? As I understood it, you did not request my consultation to discuss my personal health. We are supposed to be discussing Anakin, and Ahsoka--”

  
Yoda waved a dismissive hand, holding it up to immediately silence Obi-Wan. The silence was penetrative to Obi-Wan’s ears and it seemed to drag on long enough for the birth of a new star.

  
“With child you are, Obi-Wan.” Yoda said seriously, his shoulders slumping a little once he got the words out, as he turned away from Obi-Wan to gaze out the window.

  
“ _What?_ No, I do beg your pardon Master Yoda, but I assure you that is...that is not possible, you _must_ be mistaken--”

  
Yoda’s force signature probed against him and Obi-Wan pushed it away with his own, angrily. “Impossible is it?” The Jedi master asked, turning to gaze at Obi-Wan with those blankly appraising eyes, and Obi-Wan held his unwavering gaze for the longest of minutes before deflating, anger popping like an over-inflated bubble. There was nothing left after it popped, it just dissipated into the air.

  
“No,” Obi-Wan finally answered with a quiet exhale. His hands had come to clench at his side, and he only became aware of it when blunt nails dug into his palms. The pain didn’t wake him up from this nightmare; it felt like a fever dream and Obi-Wan would’ve reached out to steady himself had there been a steady object nearby. Instead, he shifted his weight and tried to firmly plant his feet. “It’s...it’s not impossible.”

  
Yoda didn’t reply, and instead took a few more steps to gaze out of the window, and though all Obi-Wan had wanted was for him to shut up, now all he wanted to do was to plead with him to say anything. Obi-Wan felt diseased. One of his hands reflexively came to rest on his lower stomach and he almost immediately flung it away in disgust. “Master Yoda… I… This was not intentional.”

  
Of course it wasn’t intentional, he was standing there in the council room looking close to passing out. One of the greatest Jedi Masters of the High Council-- _it wasn't intentional._ What great Jedi Master, the Jedi Master who had trained  _The Chosen One_ intentionally bore a child?  _Intentionally_ excommunicated themselves from The Order? A blind man with a cane could see that it wasn’t intentional, but Obi-Wan did not know what else to say. Not only was the conversation devastating, it was humiliating.

  
Yoda sighed again, and Obi-Wan hung his head. “Know what must you do?” Was all Yoda replied.

  
“...I do. I will uphold my responsibility, to all Jedi before me, and those after me.” Obi-Wan replied dutifully, and there were tears burning shamefully at his eyes, much to his disgrace. _With child_ and in tears, he was surprised that Yoda didn’t strike him from the Jedi Council right there and then.

  
However, Yoda did not spurn him or dismiss him. Instead, he continued to say nothing and gaze out the window. Obi-Wan glanced out briefly, but the bustling life outside in Coruscant only made him feel empty inside, as those lives were carrying on, perhaps only just beginning, and Obi-Wan felt as though his were ending. The floor held his attention for much longer than it ever had before, and Obi-Wan had traced six different geometric patterns in it with his eyes before he finally broke the silence.

  
“Master Yoda,” Obi-Wan said, still mustering strength in his voice, but speaking quieter than usual. “I know I have no right to ask this of you, but please… please, do not tell the Council. I will tell them in due time, but I must… I must fulfill my duty to Anakin first, to the Council. Then, I will step down, and I will... fulfill my duty to our people.”

  
“Tell them I will not, Obi-Wan. Yours to tell it is.” Yoda replied, and now Obi-Wan really wanted to cry. Some small part of him knew it would’ve just been easier had Yoda refused him, and informed him that he would tell the council immediately.

  
Nonetheless, Obi-Wan bowed his head, humbled. “Thank you, Master Yoda. You have my word that I will tell them, and resign my place on the council, before the third trimester begins its fruition.”

  
Yoda did not reply, this time for several minutes, and this time, Obi-Wan could sense that it was time to take his leave. Though they had convened to discuss Anakin’s future, it seemed of little consequence now. Ready or not, Anakin would have to prepare to be a Jedi master, as Obi-Wan could not stay around to continue his training. Anakin would take his place on the council, and he would become the Jedi master that Obi-Wan had been training him to be. The thought was salt in the wound.

  
As Obi-Wan began to leave the room, force signature slowly retreating, Yoda’s ever steady signature reached out and twisted gently, but firmly, around his ankle.

  
“Knight Kenobi, think this you may not, but an honourable thing it is,” Yoda said, without turning to face him. “Continuing our race, without sacrifice cannot be done.”

  
Obi-Wan didn’t turn around either. He muttered thank you. He didn’t mean it.


	2. First Trimester

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to change the format of this a little bit and instead of posting the entire rest of it in one chapter, I'm going to do one chapter per trimester, then an epilogue. Okay, I think that's about all I have to say on this chapter... Aside from, please excuse my picking and choosing from The Clone Wars timeline! I know I didn't stay true to it very much, but I just wanted to give a few shout-outs to it more than anything!

Obi-Wan had headed straight out of the meeting room, trying to flee the temple as quickly, and as subtly, as possible, trying to make it back to his and Anakin’s quarters as soon as possible. He needed to meditate for a solid hour, or maybe for the rest of his life. Maybe if he meditated for long enough he could just... _meditate_ his womb away. It was a struggle not to actively slump at the thought.

He had known that he was a _carrier_ for his entire life, of course, but he’d never given it any thought. Had always assumed those parts of him would gather dust, because there were some aspects of the jedi code that could be seen as grey, or flexible, but there was one rule, one ultimate rule that could not bend, not stretch, not give, not even an inch.

_No families._

_No children._

_No love--_

Obi-Wan’s thoughts were abruptly interrupted when the hall filled with another force signature, a dark crimson signature that twined against his effortlessly, demanding his attention with practiced ease and gentle excitement. Of course, the one time that he really wanted to make it back to his quarters with no interruptions, the one day that Anakin was the _last person he wanted to see_ \--

“Master!”

Obi-Wan briefly wondered if there was any way he could pretend that he didn’t see Anakin, decked in all black and waving him down, and avoid him entirely, but the hallway wasn’t that large, and there were no convenient corridors to dip into. Besides, he could maybe plead his innocence on not seeing Anakin, but he would never be able to convince Anakin he didn’t feel his presence, and with good reason to. It would be ridiculous, their force signatures were interwoven constantly, even at great distances, let alone in close proximity. It had taken so much effort to shield his distress from Anakin’s Force during the consultation with Master Yoda that beads of perspiration had actually dampened his hairline. So, instead of fleeing, he forced what he hoped looked like a pleasant expression on his face.

“Anakin, what are you…” He didn’t finish the question, because he realised that Anakin was probably using a training room in this wing of the temple, as they were standing mere feet away from one of the smaller rooms typically used for the younger padawans.

“Impressed that I’m out of bed, Master?” Anakin asked lightheartedly, and Obi-Wan tried to laugh, but the sound was strained, and Obi saw Anakin’s brow furrow just slightly.

“Impressed isn’t exactly the word I would, my young padawan,” Obi tried to tease, tried to recover, and it wasn’t quite enough, but it was enough to get Anakin talking again.

“How did your consultation with Master Yoda go?” Anakin asked, crossing his arms and gazing at Obi-Wan curiously. “Did you get any indications of what our next mission might be?” Already so impatient for another mission, it made Obi-Wan want to roll his eyes and smile. Anakin could complain about the life and the ways of a Jedi all he wanted, but as eager as he always was to do the work of a Jedi, Obi-Wan could imagine him doing nothing else. He didn’t want to smile so much anymore.

“I will tell you when we know, Anakin. My meeting with Master Yoda was of no consequence, no pertinent information was discussed,” And Obi-Wan said that way too quickly and fidgeting with his robe hadn’t helped his cause, because now Anakin was visibly squinting and frowning. Blast. Somewhat defeated, Obi-Wan wearily reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. This was impossible, he couldn’t keep this a secret from Anakin. Besides, if he went ahead and broke the bad news now, then he might be able to salvage their relationship and at least stay in Anakin’s fond memories of his Jedi master from way back when. If Anakin found out months from now, when Obi-Wan told the council, he was sure that Anakin would never forgive him. And at the end of the day, it wasn’t _really_ Anakin’s business anyway, was it? Soon, they would be absolved of their master and padawan bond. Anakin would become a Jedi Knight, like he’d always wanted, and he would take on as a full jedi master for Ahsoka, until she was ready to take her trials. By then, Anakin would be ready to have a seat of high power on the council. What Obi-Wan chose to do in that time was none of Anakin’s concern. So, why did he have such a duracrete lump in his stomach? _Oh, don’t play dumb with yourself, Kenobi. Anakin can’t actually read your mind, though he might as well be able to sometimes…_

“Master, what’s wrong? Did you find out troubling information in the meeting? I--”

“ _No_ , Anakin, the meeting was fine. Anakin--”

“Are you okay, Master? I can feel it in your force, something’s not right--”

“Anakin, listen to me--”

“Are you sick? Master, I heard you throwing up this morning, I’ve never seen you sick before, even that one time we flew to the outer rim and you were green the entire time--”

“Anakin, I need you to listen to me, because this isn’t going to be easy for me to say--” Obi-Wan had drawn in a deep breath and he could feel the words rising in his throat and flooding his mouth, much like the warm vomit had done that morning, but before he could projectile vomit them at Anakin, the younger Jedi was spinning around with a defensive sweep, then knocking an attacker back a few steps with an effortless blow.

At first, Obi-Wan was alarmed, as it had caught him mid-sentence and entirely off-guard, until he realised that the blows exchanged were friendly combat. The assailant had been Ahsoka, who was perkily bouncing back to her feet and dusting herself off, despite her ineffective “attack.”

“Ahsoka, what did I tell you? We’re taking a break,” Anakin was feigning annoyance, but Obi-Wan could hear something akin to fondness and pride in his voice, something that Obi-Wan knew all too well. It was amazing how quickly the bond between master and padawan could be forged. Within hours of accepting Anakin as his own padawan learner, Obi-Wan felt a swell of pride for the boy that he hadn’t even wanted, and it was a greater feeling than any other he’d ever had. Once, Qui-Gon had told him that it was the closest thing to having children that he would ever experience. Obi-Wan wanted to throw up again, and this time it had nothing to do with morning sickness.

“Also, your advance was sloppy. Entirely lacking in tactic--it would’ve been a completely ineffective blow,” Anakin continued to chastise his padawan and she rolled her eyes.

“Well, I wasn’t _actually_ trying to maim you, Master,” she replied coolly, crossing her arms over her chest with a quiet huff.

“Not to mention--if you are attacking another Force sensitive person, for the love of the light, _shield_ your own force signature. You were projecting so loudly, and your signature was everywhere. I could feel you the second you came out of the practice room.”

Ahsoka tried to nod somberly, but a hint of a smile was playing on her lips as she nodded. “Yes, Master. Is that all?”

Anakin mused for a second, then nodded. “Go back into the room and work on levitations with the weights I set up. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Ahsoka nodded and skipped off, and Anakin watched her go with faint annoyance and amusement, then turned back to Obi-Wan. “Sorry, Master. Now, I’m listening. What were you saying?”

Obi-Wan’s throat was dry. He swallowed, staring at Anakin, who was gazing at him in steady concern, but also had an undeniable placid element about him. He was happy.

“...yes. I am sick, Anakin.” He watched as Anakin’s face fell, and he reached out to gently touch Anakin’s shoulder, though he dropped his hand almost as soon as he made contact. “Unfortunately I woke in the most unfortunate condition. I am on my way to see a healer now.”

“Should I go with you?” Now concern had completely replaced Anakin’s peace, and he tried to reach forward for Obi, who subtly moved out of his grasp.

“No, I’ll be fine, Anakin. Stay here, finish your training with Ahsoka.” Obi-Wan held their eye contact for a few more moments, before breaking away and moving to side step Anakin.

_Why are you shutting me out?_

Anakin didn’t move, and Obi-Wan clenched his eyes when he was out of Anakin’s line of sight, then forced his body to relax and turned around. “Anakin. I have always told you that you would one day have what it takes to be a great Jedi Master.”

Anakin just gazed at him.

“You could not have proven me more right, Anakin. I know it’s only your first day with Ahsoka, but already, you have made me proud. She is lucky to study under you.”

Anakin was speechless, and it wasn’t entirely because of the flattering words. “...thank you, Master.” As Obi-Wan began to pull away, Anakin spluttered and tried to recover from his stupor of shock. “I--We should be done training by 16:00 hours. We decided to start off slow, only training three days a week, so after today I won’t have anything to do for the next two days, though I’ve no doubts you’ll find something, Master... I’ll be back to check on you as soon as we’re finished, okay?”  

Obi-Wan nodded with the beginnings of a fond smile, then turned and headed down the hallway. If he hadn’t needed to meditate before, he certainly did now.

.

When Obi-Wan finally made it back to his quarters, he went straight to his personal room and let the door slide shut behind him, knees buckling immediately. His hands gripped at the door, a paltry attempt to stop himself from sliding down the door and collapsing onto the floor. He managed to stumble the extra few feet to his meditate mat on the floor before he sunk down. _With child you are, Obi-Wan._

Obi-Wan tugged uncomfortably at his tunic, and considered changing it. Except, it wasn’t the tunic that was the problem. His discomfort was on the inside, and that wasn’t something he could change.

He crossed his legs and straightened his back, hands moving to settle on his thighs. His _carrier_ anatomy had never been something he’d given extensive thought to, all the _extra parts_ he had. All of his body’s _natural_ functions to ease the process of childbearing. They were parts that Anakin didn’t have, parts Anakin didn’t know that _he_ had. Obi-Wan could grow life _inside_ of himself. His uterus had been gathering dust for the last thirty plus years, and now it was brushing away the cobwebs, it had been resuscitated. Obi-Wan moved a hand up to his stomach and sent a gentle tendril of force out. Energy pulsated back, but there was no life line. Of course there wasn’t. Right now, all there was inside of him was the barest beginning of a foetus. It was not yet a life form. It would not be a life form until midway through the second trimester. Obi-Wan dropped his Force signature and moved his hand back to grip his thigh. He didn't know if that was comforting, or if it was disturbing. There was just a... _thing_ growing inside of him, not yet even a lifeform. Like an experiment growing in a test tube, he was the test tube.

Obi-Wan had never been fazed by pregnancy or by childbirth in the past. He and Anakin had been present during a delivery during one mission, they’d gotten rushed into medbay with their source on the planet, and by the time they realised what was going on, it had been too late to just wait in the hall. Obi-Wan hadn’t been bothered by it, though Anakin had gotten a little squeamish and Obi-Wan had laughed at that. None of it seemed funny anymore, and Obi-Wan’s hand moved back to his stomach, fingers curling slightly. He’d never been fazed by pregnancy, but he’d never been the _vessel_ before.

Everything he did would affect the foetus. The nutrients he consumed would go to it, so he would need to be even more mindful of what he ate--which meant no more indulging his sweet tooth--and _oh kriffing hell_ , the pregnancy weight. Obi-Wan hadn’t gained such a significant amount of weight since his growth spurt. And of course, there was his fighting and agility to consider. While he had already resolved that he would continue to go out on missions up until he was unable, he did acknowledge that he needed to be careful. Too grave an injury could cause a miscarriage, and while Obi-Wan really could not muster up even a spark of enthusiasm for his pregnancy, a miscarriage was nothing he wanted to have. A miscarriage was considered a tragedy by most species, but it was particularly grave for Jedis. To lose a Jedi, it was unimaginable. The loss would be mourned greatly by all Jedi, he would be pitied, and he would still be exiled from The Council. That was one of the several reasons that although Obi-Wan was devastated by this turn of events, it did not even cross his mind to get rid of the foetus. For many this was a safe and viable option, however; for a Jedi to eliminate offspring--lest it be for a reason of medical emergency--it was dishonourable and unspeakable. Obi-Wan had never heard of a Jedi doing so, it simply was not an option. However unwanted the pregnancy, it was the responsibility of the Jedi to see it through gestation and to raise their offspring and teach them the ways of the Force. Archaic it may have been, but the Jedi were archaic in many ways, this was merely one of those ways.

The bottom line was, he would have to be more careful than he’d ever been on missions. No more daring solo missions, or self-sacrifice. As much as he would hate it, he would have to let Anakin take the brunt of the fight. He could, of course, and he was always trying, but Obi-Wan always tried to take the full-force. Whether it was to protect Anakin, or just to gain the higher ground between them, he honestly didn’t know. He’d probably never know.

_Anakin_. That’s what it always seemed to come back to after all. Since he had been entrusted with Anakin by his own Jedi Master, his whole life seemed to orbit around him. Reluctant master though he may have been, no one could fault Obi-Wan on his commitment. He had stumbled, lost his temper, and not always had the wisest nor the greatest lessons for Anakin, but he had always been committed to his young padawan. He had always cared for Anakin, always remained by his side, and always put Anakin’s needs above his own. That was what defined genuine love, Obi-Wan had eventually realised. Putting the needs of another above your own. If that was what love was, then he did love Anakin. Irrevocably, undeniably, unconditionally. He would like to say that he was only being a good Jedi Master, that he was only protecting The Chosen One, that love had nothing to do with it, but Obi-Wan didn’t like to lie. Anakin could have been The Chosen One, or he could have been No One, and it wouldn’t have made a bit of difference. If that was how it had started out, well, it hadn’t lasted long. Anakin was a great Jedi, and it was worth far more than a vague prophecy, passed down and warped through generations. Moreover, Anakin was worth more than what he could do with the force, what he could do with a lightsaber. Though Obi-Wan had been the master, he’d learned quite a great deal from Anakin. Passion, determination, love--those all belonged to Anakin, but his padawan had began to rub off on him over the year. It had always been a truism spoken by jedis, that a jedi’s true education didn’t begin until they became a master, because everything worth learning was learned from one’s padawan learner. Obi-Wan knew that now to be true, beyond the shadow of a doubt. He had thought that being under his wise master Qui-Gon taught him everything he needed to know, prepared him for being a great Jedi, but he could say now, genuinely and knowing that Qui-Gon’s force ghost was probably smirking down at him, that being master to Anakin had allowed him to grow into the great Jedi that Qui-Gon had always known he could be. He wouldn’t have been the same man had he not been Anakin’s master. He would have been a lesser man. Being with Anakin for so many years had taught Obi-Wan so many things, some he couldn’t even name. It had taught him to relax, something he’d never even realised he needed to do. A once tense padawan, always determined to play everything exactly by the book, smiled now, and even joked. He teased Anakin gently, laughed at their inside jokes, and even joked with the Jedi Council on occasion. He had learned how to honour his path, how to honour the force, without taking everything so seriously, all of the time. He had learned the valuable wisdom that came with not always being so serious.

Anakin had opened up his life, like pulling open heavy curtains and sweeping away the dust, and above all else, perhaps, he had taught Obi-Wan how to live.

It seemed bittersweet now, how much Anakin had taught him, how great of a Jedi he had helped him become, as Obi-Wan reflected on it as it was all about to come to an end. All the progress he had made, all the insight that he had, wasted.

And for what?

Obi-Wan sighed heavily.

His relationship with Anakin, as master and padawan, was unmatched. He could not have been any more fortunate--the force brought them together for a reason.

However, what that reason was, sometimes, seemed a bit more unclear.

He and Anakin had a complicated relationship.

When Anakin was growing up, it hadn’t been so. Obi-Wan had been his caretaker, despite barely being able to care for himself it sometimes felt, and he had tried to fill the void that Anakin’s mother had left in his life. However, as Anakin grew older, their relationship changed. Being a caretaker, a parental figure, was no longer a role that Obi-Wan could fill. It became evident that wasn’t the role Anakin wanted him to fill, and even more, Anakin provided too much for Obi-Wan in return to truly sustain a parental relationship. Companionship, love, friendship--Anakin provided Obi-Wan with almost everything that Obi-Wan provided him with, and the egalitarian aspect of their relationship made it difficult to argue that they were nothing more than teacher and learner.

The first time Anakin had kissed him, Obi-Wan had felt it coming a mile off but it still came as a shock.

Obi-Wan had put himself at risk during a mission, attempting to execute a solo rescue mission and doing his best to get Anakin to stay behind, with the excuse that he needed to stand guard. It had been going seamlessly, until it hadn’t, and Obi-Wan found himself captured and unable to comm Anakin. With a blaster held at his throat, his only thought had been that he hoped Anakin would grow suspicious when he didn’t return and would flee the barracks.

However, Anakin had grown suspicious long before then, and before Obi-Wan’s captors could do much of anything to him, his padawan was dropping through the ceiling and incapacitated them long enough to free Obi-Wan. _Anakin, I believe I told you to stay with R2 and stand guard…_ It had been said with nothing but a light heart, and he might as well have been saying thank you.

_Honestly, just shut up, Master_ . And that’s when it had happened, Anakin had grabbed the front of Obi-Wan’s robes and hauled him in for a brief, unceremonious kiss on the mouth. Right in front of the captive they’d come to free, too! Thankfully, she was still unconscious, and as Obi-Wan gaped at Anakin, blubbering and face warming, Anakin turned back to him, hands on his hips, and replied _Really? You want to talk about this_ **_now_ ** _?_

Obi-Wan hadn’t been able to argue with that, and had dropped it for the time being, instead devoting full energy to freeing the captive and getting off the base with a minimal fight. Though Obi-Wan had expended full energy toward the mission, his lips had tingled the entire time.

By the time they had returned the captive to her rightful home and reassured her that she was safe there, then reported back to the Council, hours had passed and Obi-Wan wondered how to even bring it up at that point. Maybe he should just pretend it never happened and that would be all the resolution they needed.

Thankfully, for his overworked mind anyway, Anakin had other ideas, and they’d only just gotten out of the debrief with the Council and made it back to their private quarters when he decided to turn to Obi-Wan with a smirk and say, _So, is this the part where you chastise me, or can we skip to the part where we fuck?_

Obi-Wan remembered choking on air, and it was probably a little comical in actuality, that his eighteen-year-old padawan could get the best of him with one flirtatiously, crude sentence, but if anyone could ever render him speechless, it was definitely Anakin.

_// “Anakin--!”_

_“What? You think that just because you never sat me down and gave me The Talk that I don’t know what sex is? Or want it? More specifically, want it with you?”_

_“Anakin!”_

“ _Oh, kriffing hell, Master, stop it with the scandalized school marm routine, it’s not like I just offered sex to Master Yoda.”_

_Obi-Wan crossed his arms and glared at that point, though he stopped briefly to crinkle his nose at what a bad mental image anyone offering sex to Master Yoda was. “I did sit you down and teach you the Jedi Code, though, my young padawan. Surely you remember the part about Jedis not indulging in carnal pleasures…”_

_Anakin rolled his eyes grandly. “Right. And you’ve always, without fail, abided by that rule? You’ve never indulged in carnal pleasures?”_

_Obi-Wan grimaced. Anakin looked smug and triumphant, though Obi-Wan didn’t miss the spark of jealousy, the gentle green hue of his force signature, and he sighed heavily. “Not since I became a master, I haven’t. It’s been over ten years since I’ve...deviated.”_

_Anakin was still smirking and he closed the gap between them, placing his hands on Obi-Wan’s chest and rubbing up. Obi-Wan pushed his hands away, but when Anakin moved them back, he simply rolled his eyes and let them stay. “So, I would only be following a normal padawan journey if I were to deviate, too.” The glint in his eyes was enough to blind a man._

_“Perhaps, with another padawan, or one who doesn’t have to abide by the Jedi Code.” Obi-Wan bitterly thought of Padme, and vaguely wondered why he cared if Anakin experimented with her. He’d felt things through their Force bond when Anakin had been hiding out with her, and he had done his best not to know what pleasures exactly Anakin had been indulging. All Obi-Wan knew is that they were...warm._

_Anakin rolled his eyes and the way that his hands were rubbing up and over Obi-Wan’s shoulders shouldn’t have felt the way it did. Physical contact and personal space had never been something of concern between them. When Anakin was growing up, they’d frequently shared beds on missions for convenience's sake, and were both used to being right under each other’s feet. Close quarters and all that. Anakin could be quite affectionate, and would braid Obi-Wan’s hair sometimes, and Obi-Wan occasionally returned the favour. However, those touches were not like the way Anakin was touching him in that moment. Anakin was touching with intent this time. “If we’re both jedis, then doesn’t having sex with each other just kind of cancel out our transgressions?”_

_“What? No--what kind of logic is that, Anakin? And quit using that word--”_

_“What? Sex? Okay, fine. Doesn’t fucking each other just kind of cancel out our transgressions?”_

_Obi-Wan threw his hands up in frustration and glared at Anakin without any real venom in his eyes. “I don’t understand why you insist on being so difficult with me.”_

_Anakin let one of his hands come to rest on Obi-Wan’s cheek and he let his thumb brush against Obi-Wan’s bottom lip slowly. “Can I kiss you again, Master?”_

_Obi-Wan sighed, but didn’t say no, so Anakin leaned in. His lips were soft, a little dry, but soft, and Obi-Wan only allowed the briefest touch before he pulled back, but not out of Anakin’s grip. “This is incredibly unethical.”_

_Anakin huffed softly and tried to go in for another kiss but Obi-Wan held him in place. Impatient as always, Anakin grew frustrated. “You want to kiss me, don’t you? I know I’m probably not as experienced as those you “deviated” with before, but you above all people know that I’m a fast learner. Awww, c’mon... Don’t you find me attractive, Master?”_

_In one swift motion, Obi-Wan’s hands closed around Anakin’s waist and he picked him up, eliciting a squeal from his young padawan, and slammed him down on the nearest flat surface. A few decorative trinkets went flying to the floor as Anakin landed hard on the tabletop. Anakin’s mouth was agape, and Obi-Wan used his speechlessness to his advantage, pushing Anakin’s legs open with a controlled ease and sealing his padawan’s mouth with his own._

_Anakin’s shock didn’t last forever, and he tried to open his legs even more, though they were mostly trapped by his long tunic, and wrap his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck. Anakin kissed sloppily, but enthusiastically, and his wet kisses were mostly tempered by a few firm, but clean kisses from Obi-Wan._

_“You are going to be the death of me, Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmured, but there was so much fondness in his voice that he may as well have said I love you._

_“Don’t say that, Master,” Anakin replied, then his ankles hooked against the small of Obi-Wan’s back and it was all downhill from there. //_

Obi-Wan hadn’t actually fucked Anakin that night, he did pride himself on having that much self-control, but he did fuck him fairly soon after and didn’t pride himself on not holding out nearly as long as he should have. He was meant to teach Anakin, to teach him self-control and propriety, not teach him how to suck cock.

But with Anakin’s soft plush lips and faux innocent eyes… No, there was no excuse. He’d always known exactly what he was doing, known that he shouldn’t have been doing it, but there had been one too many ways to justify it to himself, and ultimately, he just enjoyed it. He cared about Anakin, more than he’d ever cared about anyone, and he enjoyed the comfort and pleasure that Anakin’s body gave him. He had taken Anakin’s virginity, and had seen the look in Anakin’s eyes when he was penetrated for the first time, and knew that he was never going to stop what they were doing out of his own volition. If Anakin wanted to stop, then they would. If not, then Obi-Wan would have happily, if not reluctantly sometimes, indulge him for the rest of their lives.

The first time they had sex, Anakin had spread his legs and begged _fuck me_ , and Obi-Wan had inwardly sighed a breath of relief that Anakin had assumed the position naturally. He already knew Anakin wasn’t a carrier, so there was no risk to their lovemaking. It had been in the afternoon, Anakin had been sprawled across their shared bed, undulating gently with every intrusion, fisting the soft beige duvet, and sunlight had been streaming in through the open window, hitting Anakin’s hair and pale skin in all the right ways. He was beautiful and pliant--he was Obi-Wan’s whole world, and Obi-Wan had buried himself inside and sated himself with Anakin’s body.

That had only been the first of countless times. They had never skipped a beat, adding sex to the mix. They did everything together, all the time. They went on missions together, spent their downtime together, and fucked. On every available surface, in every empty space, on half the ships they boarded, and in every position. The only variable that never changed was Anakin bottoming for him. They had never talked about it, it simply never came up. When they occasionally did have to separate, usually when Obi-Wan was sent on a solo mission, Anakin would always comm him without a doubt, and it would always devolve into Anakin moaning breathily into the comm, telling Obi-Wan how empty he was without him.

For four years, it continued. Anakin Skywalker was so well-fucked by him that it would take someone else until the end of time to catch up.

Then, a little over two weeks ago, Obi-Wan was tested. And he failed miserably.

It had been a day relatively like every other day. He’d woken Anakin up in the morning, and Anakin had growled in irritation at first, then grabbed Obi-Wan’s arm and pulled him back down into the sheets, demanding a morning blow job as a preliminary reward for attending the Jedi Council meeting that day.

The Jedi Council meeting had been the turning point in which everything had gone wrong at an alarmingly rapid pace. Anakin was informed that he would be allowed a seat on the Council, but they were not yet making him a jedi master.

_This is outrageous! It’s unfair!!_

Anakin had taken it just about as well as Obi-Wan had anticipated. Nevermind that Anakin was the youngest jedi to ever be appointed to the Council, he would rather rage bitterly about the vendetta that the Council held against him. Obi-Wan had always told Anakin to pick his battles, but usually Anakin seemed to pick every single one.

Obi-Wan had trailed after a raging Anakin back to their quarters, let Anakin yell himself out for the most part, then had pulled him close. He’d reminded Anakin how proud of him he was, and as he chased Anakin’s jawline with kisses, told him that it didn’t matter what the Council thought. He knew what a great Jedi Master Anakin would be.

Anakin had continued to complain, even through heated kisses, but eventually Obi-Wan had managed to coax him to bed, and they fell into it, which even managed to get a little laugh out of Anakin. Obi-Wan had smiled and pulled Anakin on top of him, feeling the tension from the room dissipate.

Maybe that had been wishful thinking on his part. Maybe if he’d been more alert, he would have noticed a pulsating grey energy around Anakin’s pure white force signature, maybe he would have seen Anakin’s eyes darken as he ground down against him hard, splaying one hand across his chest, and riding against him so hard that it made his hips hurt. However, he was too wrapped up in how Anakin looked on top of him, too absorbed in trying to comfort his padawan, that he remained virtually oblivious to these things, and when Anakin pried his legs open and palmed his ass, Obi-Wan was already moaning and not in the soundest of minds.

_//“I want to fuck you,” Anakin moaned out against Obi-Wan’s ear as he let one finger circle Obi-Wan’s entrance teasingly._

_“We will, Anakin, I just thought we were doing foreplay--”_

_“No, not like that, Master,” Anakin smirked a little and nipped at Obi-Wan’s earlobe. He was breathing hard into his ear and it made Obi-Wan shiver. “Don’t get me wrong, your cock is great. I just want to be inside of you right now.”_

_Oh. Obi-Wan squirmed, trying to find his words, trying to say no, but Anakin was sliding a finger in, and his body was betraying him. He was already so wet from their making out and rubbing, and now thanks to Anakin’s words, he was throbbing. “Anakin, I don’t--”_

_“I promise I’ll be gentle, Master. I know we’ve never done this before, but I’ve watched you do it a thousand times, you can guide me if you want,” He crooked his finger and raked over Obi-Wan’s g-spot, and Obi-Wan twisted his hands in the sheets._

_“Anakin, it’s just…”_

_“Master, please. Please, just let me do this.”_

_And maybe it was the fact that Anakin said please, maybe it was how desperate his eyes looked, or maybe it was because he had two fingers knuckles deep and a pleasure that Obi-Wan had never felt before was wracking his entire body, he was surprised he could speak at all, but when he did speak, all he said was, “okay, fuck me then,”_

_Anakin didn’t need to be told twice. His fingers were scissoring and spreading Obi-Wan open, and if he was disconcerted by how wet it was even though he’d only applied lubricant to his fingers once, he didn’t say anything. He slid his third finger in, and Obi-Wan shamelessly spread his legs even wider for Anakin, knees bent and toes curling and digging into the thin fabric of the sheets. Anakin was cruelly stroking his prostate with one finger as he continued to scissor the other two and Obi-Wan squirmed helplessly back against the bed and down onto Anakin’s fingers. He was so wet that he was leaking a little and it made his cheeks colour._

_“Anakin… Ani…”_

_That nickname caught Anakin’s attention, as Obi-Wan never called him that. Anakin had always liked the nickname, but Obi-Wan just wasn’t the type to use nicknames and terms of endearment. “Yes?” Anakin breathed, gazing down into Obi-Wan’s eyes, and there wasn’t a spark of amusement there, nothing but endless devotion and amazement. Obi-Wan bit his lip then let out a strangled breath, gazing back with just as much affection._

_“You’re teasing, please, just… I need it,” Obi-Wan raked blunt nails up Anakin’s back, then wrapped a leg around him, trying to nudge him closer with his heel. This was the moment that he would look back on endlessly over the following months and curse himself for. This is the moment where he should have told Anakin to just keep fingering him, or told him to stop, because they couldn’t go any further. Hell, he probably should have even just come clean to Anakin, and told him the whole truth right there and then. His entire body was thrumming with need, though; their force signatures were intertwined and vibrating as they undulated together, and Obi-Wan didn’t tell Anakin to stop. “I need your cock, Anakin, please,”_

_Anakin was a little floored by Obi-Wan’s blunt request, but he nodded. He’d be lying if he said his cock wasn’t aching, it had been leaking against the sheets as he fingered Obi-Wan. Anakin reached for the lubricant again, and thrust it into Obi-Wan’s hand. Obi-Wan blinked at it, a little hazy, then realised Anakin wanted him to be the one to apply it. Obi-Wan smiled a little, and this was yet another moment he would think about and hate himself for. He squeezed the clear, glistening substance into his palm and reached for Anakin’s cock, laughing softly when Anakin winced and told him that it was cold. “It will warm up,” he murmured as he stroked, watching Anakin’s mouth fall open around a quiet moan. “Beautiful,” he told Anakin sincerely, reaching up to stroke Anakin’s cheek with his clean hand._

_“Master…” Anakin had repositioned himself over Obi-Wan, carefully between his legs, and was holding his cock in one hand, looking just a little confused._

_“Mmm… just put it in, Anakin,” Obi-Wan replied, probably a little unhelpfully, so he huffed and reached down to spread himself open as best as he could._

_Anakin swore and his eyes widened at the sight. “I wish I had a holo of this,” Anakin said lowly, and Obi-Wan’s skin reddened._

_Obi-Wan fought not to grind when he felt the blunt head of  Anakin’s cock press against his entrance, and he held himself open until Anakin breached the first ring of muscle, then let go and allowed his body to swallow Anakin. “Keep going…” he instructed, voice a little airy as he was trying to concentrate on his breathing. Anakin gave a rather forceful push to sheath himself entirely and Obi-Wan cried out. Anakin’s cock was thick and warm, Obi-Wan could feel it pulsating inside of him and the fullness he felt for the first time almost made him come right then and there._

_“Mmf--ahh, Anakin--” Obi-Wan grunted and tried to spread his thighs even further apart and shift._

_“Yes? Master, am I hurting you?” Anakin was quick with his concern and Obi’s cheeks darkened, as he shook his head._

_“No--agh--Anakin, you can move, I’m fine,”_

_Anakin seemed suspicious but he nodded, moving to brace his hands above Obi-Wan’s head. Reconsidering, he grabbed Obi-Wan’s hands and laced their fingers together, pinning them above Obi-Wan’s head, crushing them down against the pillow, and earning another grunt from his master. Tentatively, Anakin thrust his hips forward and Obi-Wan made a strangled noise and squeezed Anakin’s hands reflexively. This reaction got Anakin smirking and he repeated the motion, a little more confident this time, and Obi-Wan’s eyes rolled back. It did hurt a little bit, but Anakin had been thorough in his preparations and Obi-Wan’s pain tolerance was high. Besides, his body was actually more adapted for the penetration than Anakin’s, and produced quite a bit of natural lubricant on its own and dilated naturally based on arousal, though he’d never told his padawan that and never planned to. He would just allow Anakin to think that his scissoring skills knew no match._

_Anakin was breathing a little heavily, fucking him gently enough to show that he was still being careful, but hard enough to keep his toes curled, and he shamelessly brought their lips together for a sloppy, warm kiss. Obi-Wan pliantly opened his mouth, accepting Anakin’s tongue as it licked its way into his mouth, prodding against his playfully. He groaned quietly and rubbed his tongue against Anakin’s, reflexively trying to rut up against Anakin. This caused Anakin to release his hands and move to grip Obi-Wan’s hips._

_“Is this...okay, Master?” Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if Anakin had engaged in this type of sex before. He knew that Anakin had been in a few intimate situations with Padme--though if he were honest, he tried not to think about it to any great extent--but he didn’t know what acts they had engaged in. Had he probed hard enough with his force signature, he probably could have found out, but he hadn’t wanted to. Instead, he had blocked out the senses entirely, meditating for nearly a full hour each time, to try and prevent feeling or sensing anything through their force connection. All that to say that he was unsurprised that Anakin would be nervous or insecure, but it still caused him to blink up at his padawan a little blankly._

_“Yes, Anakin, it’s fine,”_

_One of Anakin’s eyebrows shot up and Obi-Wan realised how entirely unconvincing that sounded. As if how fucking wet he was, wasn’t proof enough? He reminded himself that Anakin didn’t exactly know that part of his anatomy and huffed quietly anyway. “It’s good, Anakin, really good, you’re doing well--”_

_Anakin shook his head, and slowed his movements, and Obi-Wan prepared to roll his eyes grandly. “No, Master. If you can still speak, I’m obviously not doing a good enough job.” Before Obi-Wan could even begin to berate him, Anakin, with a strong grip on his hips, flipped him over forcefully so that he was face down in the mattress._

_“Ana--ahh!”_

_Anakin slapped his ass once, hard, and then thrust back into him with no hesitation, nailing his g-spot effortlessly with the new angle. Obi-Wan buried his face into the bed and made a humiliating noise, but Anakin heard anyway and smirked. One of his hands came to rest just below the base of Obi-Wan’s neck, effectively pinning him there, and his other hand curled around Obi-Wan’s hip, lifting him just slightly in order to thrust into him easily._

_“A--hha--hhh--fuck,”_

_Hearing a full word from Obi-Wan’s mouth only prompted Anakin to fuck him harder and it made Obi-Wan whine. His face was burning and a few tears leaked in the corners of his eyes, both out of faint embarrassment and sensory overstimulation. Anakin was relentlessly hitting his most sensitive spot, giving him no reprieve, even when Obi-Wan writhed against the bed in attempt to get away from the stimulation. If he’d really wanted him to stop, Anakin would’ve felt it through their force connection. He couldn’t bring himself to actually want Anakin to stop--he’d never felt like this before, these parts of him had never been touched, and he was seeing white--but that didn’t stop him from mewling and squirming pathetically. He didn’t know how else to process that kind of pleasure. Maybe one day he could be a brazen self-proclaimed “cockslut” like Anakin, but at the rate that he was blushing and whining, it was looking doubtful._

_“Can you come untouched?”_

_Anakin still managed to sound authoritative, even with his breathy voice, and Obi-Wan might’ve been impressed if he weren’t so focused on driving his teeth through his bottom lip. He simply made a few unintelligible noises, and Anakin squeezed his hip. “Answer me,” He instructed, bringing both his hands down to cup Obi-Wan’s ass, spreading him apart a little as he fucked into him with quick, shallow thrusts._

_“Nnnf--th-thought you didn’t want me to be able to speak,” Obi-Wan gritted out breathlessly, and Anakin slapped his ass again, playfully but warningly, and Obi-Wan whimpered when he felt his toes curl instantly. “Y-yes, Anakin, I can,” he finally admitted, and that’s obviously what Anakin wanted to hear, because he groaned loudly and shifted so that he could get a deeper angle. He pinned Obi-Wan’s wrists above his head, and effectively covered his body with his own, exerting full energy on fucking Obi-Wan into the mattress, making sure to not only hit, but forcefully hit, his g-spot with each thrust._

_Obi-Wan seized as he came, shouting Anakin’s name and not even bothering to try and muffle himself with a mouthful of duvet, fingers grasping for purchase in the sheets, but Anakin held them tight. As he came, Anakin continued to fuck him, which was entirely overstimulating and had his eyes glazing over. He clenched reflexively and Anakin swore, then came with a sharp hiss of his name. Anakin’s cum felt scalding in his ass, and he wriggled his hips a little at the sensation, though he was mostly too exhausted to move. By the time Anakin pulled out, there was a giant wet spot on the bed. Obi-Wan groaned, at least he thought he did, and tried to roll out of it, but Anakin grabbed him and rolled him back over in attempts to cuddle. The bed was wet and he was sticky, but Obi-Wan relented, and flopped over onto his back. Anakin’s leg curled around his hip, thigh pressing against Obi-Wan’s spent, sticky cock, and Obi-Wan’s breath hitched a little, which made Anakin laugh softly and nuzzle his nose against the side of his face._

_Obi-Wan moved one arm so that it could loop around Anakin’s waist and keep him close. He was still breathing heavily, trying to get back into a steady rhythm of inhales and exhales, as his heart rate slowly came down._

_“Master, that was…”_

_Obi-Wan grimaced a little and scoffed, but couldn’t keep away the fond smile that was begging at his lips._

_“Fucking amazing,” Anakin finished, searching messily for a kiss. Obi-Wan tilted his head and kissed him, sighing as Anakin reached a hand up to gently cradle his jaw. “Why didn’t you tell me you reacted like that to getting fucked?”_

_Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, but Anakin nudged him to indicate that he was serious about the question. “Because, Anakin, I didn’t know. I’ve never been fucked before, as you so gracefully put it.” Obi-Wan felt Anakin shudder a little at his use of profanity, he knew it turned Anakin on when he said vulgar things, and he couldn’t help but tease his padawan a little more. “And, I love the way that your ankles look on my shoulders. I can be a selfish man, Anakin…” This got Anakin whining, and Obi-Wan smirked then kissed his forehead. He deserved a little revenge._

_“Awww, c’mon, Master…” Anakin buried his face in Obi-Wan’s shoulder, and Obi-Wan chuckled, then smiled softly as he let his fingers mindlessly graze Anakin’s back._

_“What?” Obi-Wan decided to tease a little more, snuffling in Anakin’s hair, lacing his voice with faux innocence, “Are you surprised to hear how much I like fucking you, Anakin? How I like pinning your ankles to the mattress before we finish? How much I like making  you come from my cock? Does that surprise you? It shouldn’t.”_

_“Master! Kriffing hell!” Anakin moaned in embarrassment, and tried to hide his face even further in Obi-Wan’s shoulder, but this time Obi-Wan reached up to grip his jaw and tilt his head upwards. There was a splotchy red blush across his cheeks, and it made Obi-Wan smile in self-satisfaction. Anakin blushed deeper and pouted a little, trying to tilt his head away with no avail. Of course, Obi-Wan couldn’t let him have the upperhand, even in their post-orgasmic haze. He had to subtly reassert his dominance, and Anakin halfheartedly wondered if Obi-Wan was even aware that he always did so. Maybe. Or maybe not, maybe it was just the residual dynamic of their master/padawan relationship._

_Anakin was half-hard again, despite his embarrassment and faint annoyance, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but laugh. Anakin tried to kick at him with one of their legs, but it really came as more of a gentle nudge since their legs were tangled together._

_Obi-Wan slid one confident hand down between them and wrapped it firmly around the base of Anakin’s cock, which was almost enough to get his padawan to full erection._

_“Mmmff…”_

_“Mm, you are going to kill me, Anakin. Not all of us can have the refractory period of a teenager…”_

_“Master, please just...touch me,” Anakin begged, one hand sliding to his side to clutch the sheets, and the other moving up to grip Obi’s shoulder._

_Obi-Wan smiled, then leaned forward to seal Anakin’s lips with his own. “Oh, all right.” //_

And that had been that.

Anakin was the father.

He’d only allowed himself to be penetrated once, but once was all it took. He should’ve _known_ Anakin’s sperm would be just as persistent and strong-willed as their owner. That incident had been a little over two weeks prior, so it was just in line with the usual timeline of pregnancy symptoms that he was just starting to feel the side effects.

Though it took two people to have intercourse, and it (usually) took two people to procreate, Obi-Wan could hardly even blame Anakin, as much as some small, unreasonable, bitter part of him might have wanted to. He had never told Anakin that he was a carrier. He had never even truly explained the concept to Anakin. He should have, he knew that he should have, it was something that every good Jedi Master explained to their padawan. But he had feared that if he explained the concept to a young Anakin, then Anakin would have asked if he were a carrier or not. And though Obi-Wan knew there was no shame in being one, many jedi were, his Jedi Master had not been one and his padawan learner was not one, and he just didn’t want to admit to it.

So many small errors in judgment, and they were all his fault. If he had just told Anakin that he was a carrier, Anakin surely would have never pushed the subject of topping, at least not until they had been able to obtain some proper protection.

Obi-Wan sighed heavily and rubbed his hands down his thighs harshly. There was no point beating himself up over the past, or rehashing the same mistakes over and over again. The only thing he could do from this point was carry on.

His future was crystal clear. He would conceal the pregnancy for as long as he could, then, when he was well into his third trimester and no longer able to fully function on missions, he would tell the Jedi Council. They would be disappointed, if that was still an emotion they remembered how to feel, but vest pride in his pregnancy nonetheless, as he was carrying on the Force and helping to secure strong future generations. He would resign his seat from the Council, and he would pick a planet far away from Coruscant to relocate to. His future was clear.

Anakin’s future, however, was a little more opaque.

If he told Anakin, if they told the Jedi Council, then Anakin would be just as responsible for the posterity as Obi-Wan was. He would have to resign his status as well, and would never again be allowed to practice the ways of the jedi. His future would be the same as Obi-Wan’s.

However, that wasn’t the only path for Anakin. If Obi-Wan kept the pregnancy from him, or told him but assured him that they didn’t need to tell the council, then Anakin’s future could be very different from his. He could continue to train Ahsoka, and be the great Jedi Master that Obi-Wan had always known he could be. He could take the open place left by Obi-Wan and be instated as a Jedi Knight, just as he’d always wanted. Maybe, if he appreciated the sacrifice Obi-Wan would be making for him enough, he would even think of Obi-Wan fondly from time to time. Remember their good times together, the strong Jedi Knight Obi-Wan had once been, and not the shameful, pregnant outcast that he would become.

It was then, on the floor and deep in meditation, that Obi-Wan decided to keep this from Anakin for as long as he could, and to convince him by any means necessary that he didn’t have to take the fall for Obi-Wan’s mistake. There was no point in both of them going down for it.

This decision seemed the only decent one, the only one that a responsible once-Jedi Master could make.

Obi-Wan didn’t know why his force signature ached then wilted the way it did, a lifeless shade of green.

.

.

Obi-Wan was still deep in meditation when Anakin returned that evening. The two of them shared quarters in the Temple, larger quarters than they usually shared elsewhere, and for once, Obi-Wan was grateful for that fact. They each had their own bedroom and meditation spaces, and there was a large living area, equipped with a sitting room and a kitchen-dining room hybrid, that sprawled between their respective rooms. The door to their quarters led into the spacious living room, but Obi-Wan could still hear the door slide open.

He briefly considered crawling into bed and pretending to be asleep, but Anakin would probably be able to tell from his force signature that he wasn’t, and even if he did buy it, he would be incredibly worried. Obi-Wan never went to sleep this early. Anakin would think that his illness was serious, and the last thing that Obi-Wan needed was for Anakin to nose around where his health was considered.

Futilely, Obi-Wan hoped that Anakin would just retire to his own quarters for a while, or perhaps go get a snack from the kitchen, but footsteps immediately padded towards his quarters and Obi-Wan let out a sigh, keeping his eyes closed until the very last second, when Anakin force-knocked on his door and called out to him. “Master?”

“Come in,” Obi-Wan replied, and gracefully moved to his feet once Anakin entered.

“What are you doing? Meditating? You should be resting. Shouldn’t you? What did the healers say?” Already worried about him, Obi-Wan could tell, Anakin was talking a mile per minute.

“I’m fine, Anakin,” Obi-Wan replied, a little heavy-hearted, “I feel fine for the moment. It’s just a stomach bug, I should be fine.” It was a lie, but Obi-Wan hated lying to Anakin, so he kept the lie as brief and simple as possible.

“Let me make you some soup, at least? I think we have some of that plomeek stuff that you liked so much…”

Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose.

“Okay, so no one likes it, but since you’re sick, it will be good for you,” Anakin closed the distance between them, and let his head tilt forward until their foreheads were touching.

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan gently pushed the younger man away, and he didn’t miss the hurt that blossomed in Anakin’s eyes. “I’m sick, that’s all. It’s not you. The healers said I could be contagious, you don’t want to get sick, do you?”

“I don’t care,” Anakin declared brazenly, trying to wrap himself around Obi-Wan again. Obi-Wan allowed the coddling, but didn’t return it for the moment. “If you get me sick, we can just stay in bed together, and we won’t have to go to Council for at least a week.”

“Yes, but what about training with Ahsoka? You could get her sick. We could cause an epidemic within the Temple…”

Anakin snorted. “I thought Jedis were supposed to have good immune systems or something.”

Obi-Wan laughed, a little more bitterly than he intended to and he felt Anakin bristle. “Or something,” he replied, a little softer.

Anakin frowned and rubbed his hands down Obi-Wan’s back. “Is there something you’re not telling me, Master?”

Being so closely connected through the Force was a good thing for a master-padawan duo. It made them an unstoppable team. When it came to being lovers, it made them perfectly in synch. When it came to Obi-Wan wanting to hide something, it was terribly inconvenient. “Why would you ask me that, Anakin?” Obi-Wan answered his question with a question, and Anakin frowned, pushing back enough to look at him.

“I don’t know,” Anakin replied, disentangling himself from Obi-Wan and crossing his arms. “You just didn’t seem very happy to see me earlier. And what you said about me and Ahsoka… Do you just want to pawn me off on her?”

“That’s ridiculous, Anakin.”

“Is it?” Anakin raised his voice, and Obi-Wan had to flex his fist just to keep from pinching the bridge of his nose. “You don’t seem like you want me here right now.”

“Anakin, please,” Obi-Wan sighed, and reached a hand out towards Anakin, gazing at him pleadingly. He was tired and stressed, and he hadn’t gotten nearly enough solid meditation to handle having this argument. Anakin could be so sensitive sometimes, and once he got something in his head, it was almost impossible to dissuade him otherwise. Obi-Wan could walk across a bed of hot coals to prove his love to Anakin, and Anakin wouldn’t even notice because he would still be so busy thinking about a “weird” look Obi-Wan gave him at lunch. Obi-Wan was used to Anakin, and he was usually pretty adept at handling his mood swings, but not today.

Anakin stared at Obi-Wan’s hand before finally taking it reluctantly and allowing Obi-Wan to pull him in. Obi-Wan wrapped him up in a gentle embrace and while Anakin’s hands stayed at his side, he did lean against the older Jedi.

“I’m always happy to see you, Anakin,” Obi-Wan assured, pressing a kiss to Anakin’s temple, and rubbing his hands up and down Anakin’s arms a few times. “Now, if I let you make me some of that soup, will you stop worrying about me?”

“No,” Anakin retorted, and Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and squeezed his arms gently.

“Will you still make me the soup?”

“Yes.”

“All right. You can tell me all about your first day training Ahsoka, too.” Obi-Wan added, leaning up to kiss Anakin’s forehead gently. If he let his lips linger a little longer than he usually would have... well, it had been an emotional day. “Then we can retire early for the evening.”

Anakin nodded. He still looked a little dejected and broody, but at least he had dropped the subject for the time being. Obi-Wan didn’t have his usual patience. “I know you need your rest, Master...but can I at least give you a handie before bed?”

Obi-Wan’s heart dropped through his stomach. He hadn’t really considered what he was going to do about his sexual relationship with Anakin. With his newfound revelation--that he was _with child_ \--he couldn’t have been any less in the mood for sex. At this point, celibacy for the rest of his life sounded like a solid plan, however much his libido disagreed. However, certainly for the moment he didn’t think he could stomach it. All he wanted to do was pile on clothes and ignore his body at all costs. He couldn’t risk actually trying to officially end his sexual relationship with Anakin, though. Anakin would have absolutely lost it, and there’s no way he wouldn’t have been suspicious.

For now, Obi-Wan would simply delay the inevitable and play the sick card. He let his knuckles brush Anakin’s cheek gently. “You know I wouldn’t be able to stop there, and I don’t want to risk getting you sick. Hopefully I’ll be back to normal in a few days.” He wished.

Anakin looked even more dejected at Obi-Wan’s refusal, but he didn’t say anything, and instead just retreated into the kitchen. A few moments later, Obi-Wan could hear the clanging of pots, meaning that Anakin was beginning to make the soup. Obi-Wan gazed at the doorway for a few seconds and his hand reflexively came up to hover over his stomach.

He wished that he would be back to normal in a few days.

.

.

As Anakin walked, head high, shoulders square, and black robe billowing out behind him with each step, his bad mood rolled off of him like a tide coming in and kept everyone he encountered along the way walking.

He had planned a meeting with Senator Palpatine that morning anyway, to discuss upcoming missions and any updated sith speculation, but now he was very relieved that he would be seeing the senator. He needed someone to talk to, and Padme would undoubtedly be tied up in meetings all day, and the one person he usually talked to about everything was _indisposed._

He had fallen asleep in Obi-Wan’s room the night before, and had woken up that morning in a start, to the sound of his master throwing up again. It had been a couple of weeks since Obi-Wan fell ill, and within that time period, Anakin had heard him throw up more often than not in that time period. Usually his master tried to be quiet about it, but that morning, he’d jolted out of bed and it had been jarring. He’d been understandably alarmed and had rushed into the freshener to check on him, _only_ for Obi-Wan to get all snippy with him and tell him that he was fine, and to just go ahead and go get ready for his meeting with Senator Palpatine. All Anakin had wanted to do was help, even just hold his hair back, and Obi-Wan didn’t seem able to even accept that. He understood that Obi-Wan was ill, though he had never seen his master ill before, and he remembered that on the few occasions his mother had fallen ill when he was a child, she would become lethargic and less sociable than she was otherwise. But he didn’t remember feeling as though she pushed him away. She might have dragged around a little more and slept more, but she didn’t push him away at every opportunity. Obi-Wan hadn’t even wanted him to go to the healer’s with him! It was so unreasonable.

Anakin hadn’t even bothered asking Obi-Wan if he wanted to make the trip over to the Senate Building with him, since his master was so busy nursing his head over the toilet, and he didn’t like going to the Senate Building so much anyway. Instead, Anakin had just left, frustrated and half-sick with worry. He’d decided just to take the railway over, as it wasn’t that far away and it was too crowded that morning to warrant taking a speeder.

The Senate Building was downtown, in the very heart of Coruscant, and it was where Padme’s personal living chambers were as well, so maybe Anakin would have the opportunity to see her as well, if only for a few minutes, after his meeting with Senator Palpatine was over. When Anakin got off the railway, there were so many lifeforms bustling about in the plaza, and he almost breathed a sigh of relief. There was something almost comforting about so much going on around him. Maybe it was just a nice switch from growing up on such a desolate planet, or maybe it was just a nice contrast to how blank he felt inside. Either way, it was one of the many reasons that he enjoyed being on Coruscant so much. Over time, he had come to consider the planet a home of sorts. It was his and Obi-Wan’s base, it was where they resided when they weren’t out on missions. Of course, ultimately his home was wherever his master was. Whatever world they visited, whatever ship they were on, no matter how temporary, all became a home of sorts as long as he was there with Obi-Wan. Home is where the heart is, or whatever. He could never tell if Obi-Wan felt the same way, or if home was even a concept he understood anymore. Obi-Wan never talked about his childhood or his family or where he had grown up. A planet called Stewjon, Anakin knew that much. He’d asked once, when he was around fifteen, if they could go visit sometime. After all, his master had seen where he grew up, it would only be fair. Obi-Wan had replied that there was nothing for them there, and that had been the end of that.

Obi-Wan could be so closed off sometimes. It reminded Anakin of why he was in such a foul mood and he entered the Senate Building without more than a forced friendly smile to a couple senators that he passed on his way in. He wondered if Ahsoka would be available for a little impromptu training that afternoon. He hadn’t planned on it initially, but he needed to do something cathartic or he might just scream.

He arrived to the meeting room that Palpatine had commed him a full twenty minutes early, and force-knocked hesitantly on the door.

“Come in,”

Anakin hoped that he wasn’t interrupting a senator’s meeting or anything of the sort and pushed the door open. He was relieved to see nobody but Senator Palpatine in the room, and stood in the doorway until the senator turned. He had been looking at some holo-charts, it looked like, Anakin couldn’t quite make anything out before Palpatine closed all the projections and turned.

“Anakin,” he greeted, sounding a little surprised, “You’re early.”

“Yes, I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” Anakin checked, cautiously taking a few steps into the room.

“Not at all. I’m not needed in the senate until this afternoon, after our meeting.” Palpatine replied, gesturing to an array of open chairs.

Anakin nodded and shut the door behind him with a small flick of his hand, then descended the steps to join the senator in the sitting area of the room. “My master is sick, so I was already up a little earlier than I had anticipated,” Anakin explained, “so I figured I’d just go ahead and come over here early, there wasn’t much I needed to do back at the Temple. It’s kind of like a free day there for us right now.”

“You mean Obi-Wan Kenobi?” Palpatine asked with a quiet muse, still sorting through a few things at one of the tables. Anakin shifted in his seat, trying to see what exactly the senator was doing without blatantly getting up to look.

“Yes,” Anakin replied, eyes following as Palpatine set down a datapad then joined Anakin, sitting in a chair across from him.

“He’s not your master anymore, is he?”

“Well, no, not technically--”

“Yet you keep referring to him as much.”

Anakin shifted in his chair again, a twinge of discomfort settling in the air between them. He referred to Obi-Wan as master still partly as a sign of respect, partly out of habit, and mostly out of affection. He knew it was still a bit of a turn-on for Obi-Wan too, and that was definitely an added little perk. However, none of those reasons were something he really wanted to say to Senator Palpatine, so he settled for remaining non-committal over the matter. “Yes, well, Knight Kenobi has fallen ill, I’m afraid. It’s nothing serious, but he needs a few days of rest and relaxation.” Anakin explained, and the gentle roll of worry in his force signature was back full force.

“Ill, hmm?” Senator Palpatine was more interested in this than Anakin had expected, and something about that was unsettling. “Jedis don’t fall ill often, do they?”

“No, not often,” Anakin replied. As a matter of fact, he couldn’t remember ever truly falling ill in his life. “The midichlorians, well, I’m not sure exactly what it is, but they provide another buffer for our immune systems.”

Palpatine didn’t respond immediately, just seemed to mull Anakin’s words over, thoughtfully enough that Anakin didn’t feel like he could change the subject, but noncommittally enough that Anakin wasn’t sure what else to say.

“Interesting,” is what Palpatine finally ended up going with, and Anakin only nodded his agreement. “You’re worried about him, I take it? That’s what’s got you in such a state?”

Anakin frowned slightly. If Senator Palpatine, who was not force-sensitive, could tell that he was off-kilter, then it must have been very, very obvious.

“My master-- _Obi-Wan_ , rather, has been...strange since he got sick.” Anakin admitted, frown deepening. “He’s been very withdrawn, he doesn’t seem like he wants me around very much. And I know that he’s sick, and that might really be it, but I just… I wish he wouldn’t push me out like this. I only want to help.” Anakin was vaguely aware of how petulant he sounded, but he couldn’t help it. It’s not like he was actually making Obi-Wan’s illness all about him, even if it sounded that way. But he couldn’t help but have feelings too.

Palpatine didn’t respond immediately and instead mused quietly under his breath for a few moments before bracing his hands on his knees and leaning forward a little bit. “Anakin, you are aware that people are not always who they seem?”

Anakin’s features darkened in confusion and he shifted in his seat. “I am aware, though I think that people are often a lot more who they are than they think. And I hardly see what that has to do--”

Palpatine held up a hand to gently silence him and continued. “Even Jedis,” he said slowly, rolling the word around his mouth like it had a bad taste, “keep secrets.”

The lines in Anakin’s face deepened as he frowned. “I’m not sure what you’re implying. My master is just ill, that’s all. I shouldn’t even be complaining.”

The threadbare smile on Palpatine’s face was sympathetic yet not sincere and he shook his head. “I’m implying nothing, Anakin. You know that you are my most trusted friend in The Order.”

Anakin nodded. “And you know that Obi-Wan Kenobi has trained me since I was a child. He is as avowed to me as I to him. He would never keep a secret from me, or lie to me.”

“If you’re so sure, then it must be so.”

Palpatine’s voice dripped with insincerity and it angered Anakin to the point that he was propelled to his feet, but then had no follow through to actually leave. He paced a few feet in the room, then whirled back towards the senator, black fabric swishing against his legs with the movement. “What could Obi-Wan possibly want to hide from me?”

Palpatine had gotten to his feet by that point, and gazed at Anakin with a placid look of confusion. “I have no idea, Anakin.” Anakin turned away and cast a brooding gaze away, and it was only another few moments before Palpatine came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder in commiseration. “I did not mean to suggest that Knight Kenobi has anything to hide from you. All I meant is that you should not doubt your instincts, Anakin. The Force is very strong with you, is it not? You are incredibly perceptive--when have you ever been wrong about something you felt, Anakin?”

Anakin didn’t reply, but his shoulders slumped a mere fraction of an inch.

Palpatine squeezed his shoulder firmly as an attempt at comfort, then let his hand fall away. “My question isn’t whether or not Obi-Wan is hiding anything from you, but rather, do you feel that Obi-Wan is hiding anything from you?”

Anakin wanted to answer immediately, to say of course not, he and Obi-Wan didn’t hide things from one another. However, he hesitated. It was just a second’s hesitation, no more, but Palpatine caught his hesitation and a brief smile spread across his face. He quickly wiped it away when Anakin turned around.

“No. I don’t feel that Obi-Wan is hiding anything from me. He’s sick, that’s it.” Anakin replied, with a confidence that wasn’t matched in his chest.

“Very well,” Palpatine replied, waving his hand to dismiss the issue, “Let’s call in some breakfast then, and talk missions. I still haven’t been caught up on your last one.”

Anakin nodded his assent and followed Palpatine to the long conference table near the plexiglass window.

The conversation ended. The nagging at the back of Anakin’s mind did not.

.

.

When Anakin finally made it back to the Temple, it was late afternoon. His meeting with Senator Palpatine had taken up the majority of the morning, and on his way out of the Senate Building, he’d not-so-accidentally run into Padme and he couldn’t very well leave without chatting with her. They didn’t get to spend as much time together as either of them wished, as he was busy with missions and working his way up to the Jedi Knight position, and she was always stuck in Senate, but he still liked to think that their relationship was something special.

Granted, their relationship had been a little weird ever since they’d gotten back from hide-out and the Clone Wars had begun, but Anakin still enjoyed her company and he had found their conversation earlier soothing. It had been fairly inconsequential; she had told him some of the new matters of the senate, and he had rebuked some of the issues with them which had led to her calling him a fascist. He’d laughed, then she’d been unable to keep from laughing as well, no matter how annoyed with him she was, and then she’d given him a hug and told him not to be such a stranger while on Coruscant. He promised her that he wouldn’t be, and that he would come by again before he and Obi-Wan left the planet for a mission.

When he’d gotten back to the Temple, Obi-Wan was not in their quarters. Anakin had initially been worried--what if Obi-Wan was in medbay? What if he had gotten too ill? However, with one quick check in his private room, he found that Obi-Wan had left a small piece of flimsi on his pillow.

 

_Anakin, I have gone to a meeting with the Council. There will be a mission for us soon. Don’t worry about trying to make the meeting--I will debrief you tonight. -Obi-Wan_

 

It was a plain note, devoid of any sentiment, just strictly factual, yet Anakin still ran his fingertips over it and then tucked it away in a drawer for safekeeping. Flimsi was a fairly rare medium, for starters, so he always cherished every physical note that Obi-Wan left him. He had quite a collection, all the same, simplistic note that Obi-Wan had left him from time to time, sometimes listing times for them to meet or small requests for Anakin to do in his absence. Still, they all had grooves made by Obi-Wan pressing down a pen just a little too hard, and Anakin enjoyed how the letters felt under his touch.

Since Obi-Wan was with the Council and Anakin knew it wouldn’t be appropriate to barge in mid-meeting, Anakin commed Ahsoka and asked if she was up for a little impromptu practice, because he was feeling stir-crazy despite being out all day. She had thankfully said yes, so he’d changed into a less formal tunic and leggings set, pulled on his comfortable boots, then headed over to meet Ahsoka in a training room. Though she needed more practice on her katas, and on her form, Anakin produced his lightsaber almost the second he walked through the door and tilted his head to nonverbally ask if she was okay doing some saber work. The way that she immediately clicked hers on was answer enough, and an hour later, Anakin was thoroughly winded and Ahsoka had learned a couple new tricks if she ever found herself backed into a corner with her saber on the ground five feet away.

When Anakin returned once more to his and Obi-Wan’s private quarters, it was evening. When he approached the door, he could feel Obi-Wan’s gentle, pale force signature radiating from inside, and he immediately felt calmed. He waved the door open, and walked into their sitting room. Obi-Wan was sitting cross-legged on the couch, flicking through documents on a datapad. He finished the sentence he was on before glancing up at Anakin and offering him a fond flickering in his eyes. “Anakin.”

“Master,” Anakin replied happily, heading over to where Obi-Wan was sitting on the couch. He came up behind the couch and looped his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck from behind, hands coming to rest flat on his chest and mouth pressing against the crown of his head. Honestly, after the day he’d had, seeing his master was like having a ten pound weight lifted from his chest. “Sorry if I’m a little sweaty. I asked Ahsoka if she wanted to do a little extra combat practice, since I missed the emergency Council meeting. I figured I should at least do something productive with my time. You know, you could have commed me. I would have returned immediately for the meeting.”

Obi-Wan didn’t do anything to return the affection, though he didn’t shirk away. “It wasn’t that urgent,” Obi-Wan replied, setting his datapad aside. “There will be another meeting to debrief specifics of our mission, for now it is skeletal. Soon there will be enough details to send us.”

Anakin finally unwrapped himself from Obi-Wan and, with a surprising amount of grace, lodged himself over the back of the couch so that he could sit on the cushion next to Obi-Wan. He pulled his legs up onto the couch and tucked them underneath himself.

“How was your meeting with Senator Palpatine?” Obi-Wan asked, seeming genuinely curious.

_He doesn’t think I should trust you!_ Anakin thought about just blurting it out, but he knew that if he did, Obi-Wan would just scoff and dismiss him, and dislike the senator even more than he already did. He could hear Obi-Wan know: _Anakin, that’s absolutely ridiculous. No, I don’t know why Senator Palpatine would say such a thing… but he’s a politician, Anakin. What do you expect?_ Instead, Anakin stared very hard at his nails and tried not to feel the lump of guilt in his throat or the suspicion tingling in his fingertips. “It was fine,” Anakin replied nonchalantly, “He had breakfast brought in to us, and asked what our next mission was going to be. If we had anything else on Grievous.”

Obi-Wan nodded, but Anakin could practically _feel_ his condescension and it made his skin crawl. “He’s just trying to help!” Anakin said defensively, pushing a forceful wave of misplaced anger away, and Obi-Wan looked over at him, a little appalled by how strong the emotion pulsated.

“I didn’t say anything, did I? I didn’t say anything,” Obi-Wan replied, reaching across the couch for one of Anakin’s hands.

Anakin gazed down for a moment and sighed, then finally took it. “I’m sorry, Master. Maybe I’m just getting a little stir crazy with no missions.” Anakin squeezed Obi-Wan’s hand, then rubbed his thumb over the back of it repeatedly, another silent apology. “Tell me about our upcoming mission.”

Obi-Wan hadn’t reacted, beyond squeezing Anakin’s hand back gently, and then nodding at the request. “We may be needed on Christophsis. Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan began a relief mission on Christophsis recently, but his mission has been trapped by a Separatist fleet led by Admiral Trench. It will be our primary job to get Senator Organa safely off of Christophsis. The Republic wants us to lead a fleet, in order to establish a military base. They plan to retake the planet from General Whorm Loathsom, lest it remain Separatist territory. Master Yoda is still talking it over with the Senate, but after today’s meeting, it is looking more and more likely that we’ll be donning the matching titles of _general_ for this mission.”

Anakin grinned and stretched in a catlike movement, arching his back away from the couch. “Sounds fun,” he replied, and he half-meant it, too.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes.  

“How are you feeling?” Anakin asked, gently nudging Obi-Wan’s thigh with his foot. Obi-Wan looked somewhat confused at the question and Anakin felt a misplaced stab of distrust on the surface of his chest. _Even Jedis keep secrets_. “You threw up again this morning. Did you go back to the healers?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, and let one of his hands fall down to Anakin’s foot, which was still resting on his thigh. “No, there’s nothing more they can do for me.”

“What? Are you serious?” Anakin’s emotions surged back up, like a geyser, only staying dormant for a few minutes at most before they started bubbling and shooting skyward again. “Nothing? Was there no medicine they could offer you?”

“No, this kind of virus can’t be treated with medicine,” Obi-Wan replied with a sigh, and Anakin shifted on the couch to get closer to his master. “This is just something I’ll have to wait out.”

Anakin was in Obi-Wan’s space now, pressing a few errant kisses against his face and trying to twine around him without crawling into his lap. “Master, you know that if it were something serious, _if_ it’s something serious, then you can tell me.” His heart was hammering inside of his chest, it was absolutely maddening that Obi-Wan could always keep such a neutral expression, Anakin knew that his own eyes betrayed him in an instance. They were full of fear, uncertainty, tinged with anger and he didn’t know why. _Just tell me what’s wrong._

“Anakin, it’s nothing. I have told you, I’m sick.” Obi-Wan replied, and the kiss he pressed to Anakin’s temple felt artificial.

“Too sick for missions?” Anakin shot back, pulling away from the older jedi and staring him down defiantly. Whatever was wrong with his master, whatever illness he had contracted, he didn’t appreciate being shielded from it. He was grown up now, twenty-three years old and almost a Jedi Knight. He could take it.

Obi-Wan’s face softened and fell, just for a split second, before it regained his neutrality. “No. Not too sick for that.” he replied softly, and Anakin’s frustration peaked and he didn’t even know what to say.

Obi-Wan pulled him closer then, and Anakin relented, letting his head fall to Obi-Wan’s chest and an arm fall to his waist. “Don’t worry about me, my young padawan. I will endure.”

It was an odd word to use, it was odd phrasing, and Anakin felt discomforted by it, but he said nothing and stayed put. This was the most affectionate Obi-Wan had been with him in the last couple of weeks, and he didn’t want to ruin it. They hadn’t had sex, or even done more than a little making out and heavy petting, even though Anakin begged and swore up and down that Obi-Wan wouldn’t get him sick. It was safe to say, Anakin had been taking a lot of cold showers and had gotten reaquainted with his hand.

He was halfway asleep when Obi-Wan shifted and woke him. Obi-Wan smiled apologetically and gently repositioned Anakin so that he could get up.

“Are you leaving?” Anakin blinked blearily, rubbing at his eyes and looking up at his master in confusion. It was nighttime, and unless they were on a mission, Obi-Wan never went out this late.

“I have a meeting,” Obi-Wan gave another apologetic smile, though it came out more like a grimace this time. “Master Windu wishes to meet, to discuss some of the Republic’s strategy.”

“Oh,” Anakin replied abjectly, processing for a few moments before moving to his feet. “Should I come with you, then? If I’m to be apart of this, too--”

Obi-Wan held up a hand and Anakin’s shoulders immediately slumped. “Not this time, Anakin. You know what Master Windu is like…”

“I don’t understand,” Anakin complained, his heart feeling heavy. How many times would the Jedi Council work to exclude him from everything, even his own missions? They would promote him to general for the purposes of recapturing a planet, but they wouldn’t allow him to be present for any of the meetings about it? Did they really value his input so little? While he knew that it was easier for Obi-Wan to go along with them, to accommodate with as little protest as possible, sometimes he wished that his master would still fight for him. No, I’m not coming to look at the strategy plans if Anakin can’t come, too. Would that really have been so hard, so exhausting, so laborious?

“Anakin, just be patient. This meeting is small, in the grand scheme of things. Besides, you’d probably be bored, anyway.”

Anakin went to protest, so Obi-Wan closed the distance between them and kissed his forehead.

“I won’t be gone long.”

“Okay,” Anakin replied, hands reflexively reached for Obi-Wan, but the other pulled away too quickly for his grasp and his hands fell uselessly back to his side.

He watched Obi-Wan put on his robe and leave without fanfare, and sunk back down onto the couch.

_He would never keep a secret from me, or lie to me._

_If you’re so sure, then it must be so._

.

.

He had lied to Anakin. There were strategic plans from the Republic that he and Anakin would have to review within the next couple of days, but he was not meeting with Master Windu to talk about them, tonight or any other time that he knew of. However, Master Windu was one of the member on the Council who had taken to Anakin the least, who had the most distrust in him, so of course, Anakin easily bought the lie, that Obi-Wan was meeting with him and Anakin wasn’t invited.

Lying to Anakin felt similar to how he imagined gripping the wrong end of a lightsaber would feel, but it had been necessary. If he had told Anakin the truth about his late night excursion, it would have raised too many questions. Too many questions he couldn’t--wouldn’t--answer, at least not yet. Anakin was already suspicious of his illness, he could tell, but if his morning sickness subsided--and oh force, he hoped it would for more reasons than one--soon, then he could quell Anakin’s worries and his padawan would hopefully be so enraptured with their next mission, that he would slip into complacency and quit asking so many questions, as Obi-Wan was finding it harder and harder to dodge them.

He took a deep breath when he finally reached his destination. Thankfully travelling at night meant that very few people were milling about the Temple or where he was going, and he was almost positive that no one of any importance had spotted him. Now permitting he could get back just as stealthily, Anakin would never know that he left the Temple and he wouldn’t have to account for his lie. He glanced around the corridor to ensure that it was still empty, then raised his hand and gently knocked on the door. He only had to wait seconds before he could hear footsteps on the other side of the door.

“Obi-Wan!”

Padme beamed when she saw the older Jedi standing on the other side of the door, and she immediately stood aside so that he could enter. “What a pleasant surprise, please come in.”

Obi-Wan dipped his head in order to show his gratitude and followed her inside, taking a quick glance around the room to ensure that they were alone. While he was sure that Padme wouldn’t invite him in if she were entertaining, he never knew when a lady-in-waiting or a handmaid might’ve been lurking around. Usually the presence wouldn’t bother Obi-Wan, but when dealing with such serious matters, he couldn’t be too careful. Anyone and everyone was a threat.

Padme offered Obi-Wan a light refreshment, which he of course denied, and then she led him to the ornate yellow couch. She curled her legs up beside her when she sat, in order to angle her body towards Obi, who sat a respectable, but not rude, distance from her. All she had on was one of her thinner nightgowns, and she would’ve felt compelled to change had anyone else stopped by, but Obi-Wan made her feel very comfortable. He always had, and Padme was certain that the entire galaxy would burn down around them before Obi-Wan would make a move on her. Obi-Wan took the Jedi Way very seriously. Padme had never even heard of him sateing his more...carnal desires as she knew many jedi did. While Padme didn’t agree with or understand all of the Jedi Code, she respected and admired Obi-Wan’s dedication to it. Afterall, Ani hadn’t shown half the strength of character when it came to following it, she could attest to that from personal experience. She was sure that if she were in the same position, she would fail also, so she couldn’t imagine the resolve that Obi-Wan must have had.

He was currently sitting, rather stoically, and while Padme didn’t mind the silence, it was unlike Obi to come all the way to her private quarters just to sit in stone cold silence on her couch.

“So…” she trailed off, almost nervously, and bit her lip. Admittedly, she was a bit afraid of getting mad news from it. _There’s going to be an attempt on your life, Senator Amidala. Someone in your midsts is a traitor._ It wouldn’t be the first time for any of it, but it wasn’t exactly news she wanted relayed to her at 23:00 hours, and with everything that was going on in general, with the Clone Wars and the instability in the senate, it wasn’t something she wanted to deal with.

“So,” Obi-Wan gave her a soft, reassuring smile, and she giggled a little, still nervous. “I’m sorry if I have caused you any stress, Senator Amidala--”

“Padme,” she bit her lip again, a nervous tick, and reflexively tucked her hair behind her ear, then pulled it out again.

“Padme,” Obi-Wan repeated compliantly, reaching out and gently probing a light, reassuring force touch against her knee. “I did not come to relay bad news.”

He could almost see the fear leave Padme’s body with her mighty exhale. “Apologies, I probably should have started with that…”

“No, it’s okay,” Padme reassured, smiling brightly at him, “You’re not to be blamed for the paranoia of Naboo.”

Obi-Wan smiled gently back, and let a comfortable silence fall between them. Comfortable though it was, Obi-Wan could feel Padme waiting expectantly, and it made him fidget with the flowy sleeves of his tunic. It was one of his looser ones. Though he had gained no weight yet--yes, he may have been obsessively checking, and no, it had nothing to do with vanity--he already felt bloated and his tighter clothes were not so comfortable when it came to just lounging around or meditating.

“Obi-Wan,” Padme was the first to speak, again, and Obi-Wan cursed himself inwardly. He could swear that nothing was wrong all the live long day; Padme wasn’t an idiot, and she was a perceptive woman at that. Having to break the silence twice, when he was the one to call on her, would definitely alert her that something was not right, if his odd behaviour alone didn’t. “Is everything all right? You’re acting...strangely. I believe you when you say I’m not in danger, but something bad has happened? Is it about Coruscant? The Jedi Council?” Obi-Wan saw her small inhale of breath and dilation of her pupils. “Ani?”

“Anakin is fine.” Obi-Wan replied, maybe a little bit too quickly, and the bitter taste in the back of his mouth wasn’t one that he tasted often. “Everything is all right, Padme, but there is something wrong.”

Her pupils shrunk and urged him to continue.

“There is something wrong with me,” Obi-Wan continued, and she reflexively angled her body to be closer to his. “I do not mean to trouble you with this--”

“It’s no trouble, Obi-Wan. Not after you’ve done so much for me, and for Ani.”

“--but I do not know who else to turn to, and I need council.”

If Padme hadn’t been worried before, she certainly was now. While she knew that Obi-Wan cared for her, and respected her greatly, she couldn’t imagine a problem in which she was his only confidant. He had all of  the Jedi Council, he had _Ani_ , they were all better suited to understand the woes of a jedi. She couldn’t imagine what she had to offer that they couldn’t, unless he needed something from her, such as a place to hide or an in with the senate. However, Obi-Wan had never been hesitant to ask for help when he needed it, so that seemed unlikely. “Of course. I will do anything within my power to help you, you know that. Is the Jedi Council unable to guide you with this problem?”

Obi-Wan laughed ironically under his breath and it alarmed Padme. “Sorry. No, no the Jedi Council cannot guide me with this problem. Well, they could, but there’s no need. I already know what they’ll say, and I am not ready to tell this to them. Are you comfortable keeping my secret, if only for a while?”

Padme hesitated and Obi-Wan watched her patiently as she wet her lips and worried her hands together. “Yes. Does no one know? No one on the council?”

“Master Yoda knows, that’s all.” Obi-Wan replied honestly, then added, “Anakin does not.”

Padme’s features darkened and anxiety was rolling off of her like gently rolling waves eroding sand. She was troubled.

“Excuse me, Senator Amidala. I should leave.” Obi-Wan went to stand, and Padme reached out to grip his forearm, fingers digging in a little harder than she’d intended. Obi-Wan let her guide him back down to the couch, and she squeezed his arm apologetically.

“No, Obi-Wan. Please stay. I apologise, it’s only that I have so very little experience being anyone’s confidant… It doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t like any.” There was an innocence in Padme’s delicate features that somehow hadn’t been stamped out, hadn’t been chipped away by everything she’d ever seen. Hadn’t been disillusioned by everything that had been expected of her. Obi-Wan saw that same innocence in Anakin’s features. Though he and Padme were hardly cut from the same cloth, there was something similar to be seen in their souls. Suddenly, all Obi-Wan wanted to do was pull Padme in for a hug, kiss her forehead, and protect her from the world, and, most of all, from this.

Instead, he took a deep breath, held it, then released it on a slow count of five. Padme was strong, and so was he. He would soldier on, and so would she.

“Padme, I am with child.”

It was the first time he’d spoken those words aloud and they tasted just as bad as he had anticipated. Like warm rain, the end of the battery, stale, black caf, bile. It took a large portion of his self-control to stop from scraping his teeth against his tongue.

Padme was confused. It was obvious in the way her nose scrunched and her lips parted then touched a few times, and if Obi-Wan weren’t so embarrassed, he would have explained it to her instead of letting her struggle her way through.

“You’re… with someone?” was what Padme finally opted to say, and Obi-Wan was glad when she followed up so that he could evade the question a little bit more easily. “I thought Jedis weren’t allowed to…”

“We aren’t,” Obi-Wan answered quickly, one hand reflexively moving to his stomach and Padme’s eyes followed it there, “And I was physical with someone. We are not... _together_ , so to speak. They don’t know.”

Padme’s eyes slowly trailed back up, gaze wide and cheeks slowly flushing pink. “So... _you’re_ with child, Obi-Wan? Quite literally?”

Padme wasn’t the only one blushing, Obi-Wan could feel his cheeks burn at the question and he was slow to nod. “Yes. I am a carrier.”

It was not that male pregnancy was a concept that Padme was unfamiliar with. She was worldly, educated; she knew that many species relied on male fertility to stay populated. Every species was different, each planet was different. However, she had never heard of any Jedis being pregnant--male or female. She had assumed that they only had the capability to impregnate others, or maybe not even that. Midichlorians were cloaked in mystery, and Padme had never tried to figure it out. She’d always assumed it was a genetic mutation that happened at random, not something that was always genetically inherited.

Obi-Wan sighed and carded a hand through his hair, trying to will the heat away from his face. He cleared his throat. “Not all Jedis are carriers. Only some of us, it’s within our biology. It all comes down to which parent you inherit the midichlorians from. If both parents pass them on to you, then it’s random as to whether you will be a carrier or not. I inherited my midichlorians from my father… He was never a Jedi, only force sensitive, so there were no repercussions of him passing on the midichlorians and having a family.”

“There will be repercussions for you?” Was all Padme could really manage to say, because really, her mind still hadn’t caught up with all the midichlorian talk. _Carriers_? It was not a usual topic of conversation, in the senate or anywhere else.

Obi-Wan grimaced. “You know the Jedi Code, Padme. Many carriers are Jedis. They choose the path of the Jedi, rather than the path of parenthood, and they do not pass on their midichlorians. Instead, we choose to give back to our people by training a padawan, which is the only way in which a Jedi can experience anything akin to parenthood. If a carrier decides to choose the other path, to pass on their midichlorians and bear children, they are revoked of all things Jedi. They cannot sit on the Jedi Council or continue use of the force.”

Padme looked horrified, and Obi-Wan wondered if he should have sugarcoated his glum future a little more, if not for her sake than if for his. Knowing the horrible ramifications of what had happened were one thing, explaining them to someone else was another.

“It’s not meant to be a punishment. The Jedi Code strictly prohibits familial attachments. Every force-sensitive individual has the choice. Every Jedi has the choice as well, but a choice it must be. I cannot continue the path of a Jedi now.”

Padme still looked vaguely horrified, and Obi-Wan felt there was something ironic that he would have to comfort her, when it was his life that had been consumed by tragedy.

“If it’s a choice, then you--you chose this?” Padme was honestly still hung up on the fact that Knight Kenobi was _pregnant_ , but she was trying to muster up her strength and move on, because she was sure that her disbelief was the last thing that he needed now.

“It was an accident.”

“How?” Padme blurted out before she could stop herself, and she watched Obi-Wan’s face redden and her own followed in suit as she realised there was only one answer to her question and neither of them wanted Obi-Wan to say it outloud. “Oh.”

All Obi-Wan could hope for was that she didn’t ask him who, because if she was this shocked by his pregnancy, then he couldn’t imagine how shocked she’d be by who impregnated him. Besides, it would hurt her. And that was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Is that why Jedis are supposed to remain abstinent?” Padme asked, chewing on her bottom lip uncomfortably. So much for thinking that the galaxy would burn down before Obi-Wan Kenobi would bed someone.

“One of the reasons, yes.” Obi-Wan replied, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear and trying to pretend that they were talking about something, anything, other than sex. “It makes it easier for carriers.”

Padme was quiet for a second, mulling over everything Obi-Wan had told her. It was so much, yet it begged more questions than it answered. “Can you...can carriers, rather, get pregnant from anything…?” It was an unnecessary question and she regretted asking it when Obi-Wan choked, but she had been genuinely curious. Besides, she had no idea whether Ani was a carrier or not--he probably didn’t even know, unless Obi-Wan had talked to him about it--so it was pertinent information for her to know, though she wouldn’t divulge that to Obi-Wan.

“A carrier has to be penetrated to be impregnated, like everyone else.” Obi-Wan answered bluntly, trying to answer as he would if he were teaching any young person, and not as if he were outlying the details of his intimate life to Padme.

“Right. Of course. Makes sense.” Padme replied, turning away for a second so that she could blush and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She was quiet for a second, letting her eyes squeeze shut, and her hair find its way back into her complicated updo, pulling a few strand loose. “Why are you telling me this, Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan sighed. “I’ve wanted to be a Jedi my entire life. As I said before, my father was force-sensitive, but not a jedi. My mother was neither. Yet, as soon as I was old enough to know what jedis were, I knew I wanted to be one. I started exhibiting force sensitivity at a young age, and I begged my parents to let me go off for training. I would be a great Jedi Master, and I would make the galaxy a better place, for them, and for everyone else who couldn’t be a Jedi Master themselves. They were a little clueless, my father was a farmer and my mother a diplomat, but they supported me. In retrospect, I realise it must have made them sad. I was just a child, I didn’t realise how far jedis had to go to excommunicate themselves from their families. I’ve only seen my parents via hologram twice since I left them. However, I must say, it hardly made me as sad as it should’ve. I received my master, Qui-Gon Jinn, and he was like the parental figure I’d never had and had always wanted. He understood me in all the ways that my parents never had and we shared the force. My master was the one to explain carriers to me, and he gently told me that I was a carrier. He was not. I felt ostracized by the revelation, determined that I would have to work twice as hard to be half the jedi that he was. I remember that he laughed and assured me that wasn’t the case, that being a carrier was just part of my biology, and it would only make a difference if I chose to carry. I immediately told him that I would never do that, I would never do anything that would put me from the Jedi’s path. He did assure me that being a carrier, that choosing to bear children and pass on my midichlorians was as great an honour as any, and that if it were my destiny to help continue our race, than that was worth just as much as being a jedi was. I was never sure if he believed it or not, but I didn’t. Again, I told him that I would never carry, that I would never have children or a family. I was meant to be a jedi. He accepted my words, and told me how to ensure I didn’t get pregnant, even in the case that I did violate the Jedi Code. That was one of the more embarrassing conversations I ever had with my master, but I was thankful for having the talk. Believe it or not, I really did follow the Jedi Code. I really did listen to what my master said, about how to avoid impregnation… I followed until I didn’t, I listened until I didn’t, and now, I’m exactly where I should have known I would be. I will lie in the bed that I’ve made for myself, Padme, I will walk new the pathway that I have forged for myself. However… I simply do not know who I’ll be when I’m no longer a Jedi. It’s been too long to remember who I was before.”

Obi-Wan looked over, almost immediately regretting half of what he had said, and saw that Padme was crying. She was empathetic, that’s why Obi-Wan had wanted to confide in her. Maybe she was too empathetic, though.

Padme wiped at her tears with a resolute sniffle though, and squared her shoulders. “For what it’s worth, I think it’s terrible. Having to choose between love and the force, the way that you do. It’s a wonder that more jedis don’t stray from the path.”

Obi-Wan smiled humorlessly. “They do. Just not as carelessly as I have.”

Padme reached out and laid a soft hand on Obi-Wan’s knee. “It’s not my place, but I do think that procreating is one of the greatest gifts known to the galaxy, and it is an honour. I can only hope that one day I will be lucky enough to bear my own children. If anyone’s force is worth being passed down, it’s yours, Obi-Wan.”

It was very sweet, so Obi-Wan didn’t tell her that wasn’t how the force worked.

“But if I ever am lucky enough to bear children, I will not have to relinquish my seat in the senate. So I can’t imagine what you’re going through.” She squeezed his knee gently and he gave her an appreciative smile. The silence that lapsed between them was comfortable, and Obi-Wan felt a sense of sanctuary that he’d been unable to find the past few days. It felt as if nothing was real, the life growing inside him included, and maybe if he just stayed in Senator Amidala’s quarters for the rest of his life, he would never have to face his destiny. Of course, that wasn’t true and he couldn’t stay there anyway, but it was a nice thought to sleepily entertain as he sunk further into the couch.

“Obi-Wan… Again, this is not my place, but have you considered talking about this with someone who might have a better understanding of a Jedi’s life?”

Obi-Wan was very fond of Padme. She was very intelligent and kind. She was not subtle. “Padme, I will tell Anakin, eventually. But it will be closer to the time that I tell the rest of the Jedi Council.”

“Ani _loves you_ \--”

“And I love him,” Obi-Wan hated how easily those words rolled off his tongue, as if they’d always been there . “He is my one and only padawan learner. Until recently, I believed he would be the closest experience I would ever have to raising a child. That is why I will continue to put his needs above my own. He has just taken on the responsibility of training Ahsoka and he is preparing to become a Jedi Knight. I cannot… I will not distract him from his destiny with my own. He… He means too much to me.” Obi-Wan would have lit himself on fire to keep Anakin warm, and right now, that was a preferable alternative to what this was.

Padme was quiet, she was sort of crying again, and Obi-Wan reached out to put a tentative arm around her. She accepted the gesture of affection and leaned into him, her head coming to settle against his chest. Now she really reminded him of Anakin and something deep within his chest ached. He stroked her hair gently and said nothing, He had run out of words.

Thankfully, so had she. They sat in companionable silence for another fifteen minutes or so, but it kind of felt like the rest of Obi-Wan’s life, or maybe it felt like the blink of an eye, until Obi-Wan finally cleared his throat politely and shifted to stand.

“Obi-Wan, you know that you always have a safe space in my chambers, do you not?” she asked, accepting Obi-Wan’s hand and allowing him to help her to her feet.

“Yes, Padme. You have done more than I ever could have asked for. Thank you for being a confidant in my darkest hour.” Obi-Wan accepted it when she stood on her toes to give him a quick hug.

“Just… please consider all that I’ve said, Knight Kenobi.” she pleaded as she walked him to the door, reaching out to gently touch his elbow. “And please know, you would be a hero, Jedi Knight or not. Of that I have no doubt.”

Obi-Wan thanked her, then bid her a goodnight and slipped out the door.

.

.

“Senator Palpatine, I came as soon as I got the message,” Anakin burst into the meeting room, face slightly furrowed in anxiousness and robes rippling dramatically as he swept into the room and casually waved his hand to shut the door behind him.

“Ah, yes, thank you for meeting with me in such short notice, Anakin,” Palpatine responded, setting down a datapad that he had hardly been reading,  “though, this is information that I thought you would want as soon as possible.”

Anakin’s frown lines deepened. It had been early in the morning, barely seven o’clock, when he got the message that the Senator was requesting his presence. “All right, well, I’m here now,” Anakin tried not to sound horribly impatient, but he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t on edge. He wasn’t sure what could be so important that Senator Palpatine would tell him to come as soon as absolutely possible, but he was sure that it was no good. After all, when was _good news_ urgent? That’s right, _never_.

“Please, Anakin, make yourself comfortable. Some of this may be difficult for you to hear.”

“Isn’t everything these days?” Anakin muttered under his breath, pacing a few steps restlessly before settling himself into a chair. Getting comfortable was dubious though, as he perched on the very edge of it rigidly, almost white-knuckling the edges. “Well?”

“It concerns Master Kenobi. My friends in the Senate have picked up some… disturbing rumours about him.” Senator Palpatine always seemed to speak in riddles, and when they were having a philosophical discussion, or even a light hearted little chat, Anakin didn’t mind, but now, when there was bad news, he wished that he would just spit it out.  

Anakin’s brow furrowed, as he rubbed at the edge of the chair. The words that came out of Senator Palpatine’s mouth didn’t quite seem real, they seemed more like a pale echo of the conversation he had tried to broach before. _Even jedi keep secrets…_

“Anakin. There is a… complicated situation at hand. You know that some in the Senate _regret_ giving me emergency power.”

Anakin blinked blankly at Senator Palpatine. “Yes…?” Though Senator Palpatine being elected to suspend Senate and gain control in emergencies had been a fairly recent, and significant, decision, it had been far from Anakin’s mind. Between missions, the continued threat from General Grievous and the Separatists, and now Obi-Wan’s illness, Anakin had little mind for politics. He knew that the Jedi Council was not thrilled at having to answer to the Senator Palpatine, Master Windu is particular was displeased by this, and that they had only granted him a seat on the Council due to Senator Palpatine’s urging, yet still refused to grant him the title of Jedi Master. Aside from that, Anakin knew little of what the Senate felt or thought about the entire situation. “That’s only to be expected, isn’t it? Why worry about it now? And what does this have to do with Obi-Wan?”

Palpatine held up his hand to silence Anakin, urging him down, and meeting Anakin’s gaze unwaveringly. “I’m getting to that.” He took a deep breath and gazed into Anakin’s eyes for a few more moments, before turning his gaze toward the window. “We worry now, because it seems that some senators no longer wish to reconcile this through a democratic channel. Instead, they are organizing into a cabal, in order to remove me by...other means.”

Anakin was out of his chair and to his feet before he could stop himself. “You mean treason, Senator?”

“Unfortunately,” Palpatine replied, and his gaze seemed a little wistful as he watched the life bustling beyond the window without really seeing any of it. “Rumour has it that the senators in this cabal may have fallen victims to the… persuasive powers… of the Jedi Council and are on their way to becoming accomplices in the Council’s plot against the Republic.”

Anakin sunk back down into his chair slowly, his knees suddenly feeling just a little weak, and he gaped at Senator Palpatine in disbelief. “I...  You are suggesting that members of the Council would use the Force to manipulate these senators? You know what a thing that is to suggest… With all due respect, Senator, this seems… _ridiculous!_ ” Anakin spluttered. He hadn’t meant to spit that last word out the way that he did, and he was relieved when Palpatine didn’t seem offended.

“It very well may be, Anakin. It may be ridiculous, it may be false, it may be that there is no need for concern. But until we know that, for sure, then we must be concerned. You know what you must do, yes?”

The room lapsed into silence. Anakin’s hands moved to grip the sides of the chair and he shook his head. Palpatine’s mouth formed into something akin to a smile, but it was just a flicker before it was gone. “Your Jedi senses, Anakin. Your ability to read evil intent. In order to discover whether there is any validity to these rumours, whether they are indeed _ridiculous_ , you’ll need to remain present in upcoming meetings, and ever-alert. This is why I put you on the Council, Anakin. I cannot discern a jedi’s _true_ motives. Only you can do that. If these rumors are true, you may be democracy’s last hope.”

Anakin simultaneously felt as though he were free-falling, grasping desperately for something to break his fall and only managing to get fistfulls of air, and frozen in time, stuck in the same breath of air, unable to sustain himself yet unable to go on. Why him? Why did this always happen to him? The chosen one, the great jedi in the galaxy, the last hope--why was he always the last hope? He had just gotten a new padawan, his master had come down with a mysterious illness, and he was still vying for the title of Jedi Master--the last thing he needed was to be Senator Palpatine’s last hope in the midst of some Senate scandal. “I will try my best, Sir.” he finally said after a long breath, slowly breathing out air and watching as it went. Sometimes when he breathed, he would pretend that he could see the air move in and out of his nose and mouth. Inhales were blue, exhales were usually green--this one was red.

“We won’t try, Anakin. We will do.” Senator Palpatine finally turned back around in his chair, facing Anakin with an aloof appraising gaze.

Anakin sighed unabashedly and scrubbed a hand down his face. When he had discovered that Senator Palpatine had summoned him for an emergency consultation, this had not been what he was anticipating at all. “You still haven’t told me _what_ this has to do with Obi-Wan.” Whether it spoke of Anakin’s unwavering loyalty or repressive denial that he hadn’t connected the dots yet, who could say.

Now it was Palpatine’s turn to sigh. “Well, that is the difficult part. The _disturbing_ part. Anakin, I need you to promise me, that you’ll consider this, no matter how _ridiculous_ it might sound--”

“Senator!” Anakin didn’t mean to sound so frustrated, and he rubbed at his face again, letting his eyelids slip shut for longer than a blink. “Sir, I _implore_ you--just tell me, what does this have to do with Obi-Wan?”

Like a switch, Palpatine’s riddling stopped, and his cold, hard truths began. Anakin would grow to regret that switch. “It seems that _Master Kenobi_ has been in contact with a certain Senator who is known to be a leader of this developing cabal. Apparently, _very_ close contact. The rumor, the rumor that I heard this morning--the reason that I called you here--is that he was seen leaving this Senator’s residence last night, at an… unseemly hour.”

The falling and the freezing--they collided. It was like being punched in the chest, frozen in midair, then dropped unceremoniously. It was worse than anything he’d ever felt, and he was rising from his chair again, metal hand coming reflexively to grip at his chest--to beat it and hear the hollow sounds or to rip out his heart if it were still there, because it wouldn’t be if Senator Palpatine was implying what he thought he might have been implying. “Who? Who is this Senator? Let’s go question him. Now.”

Palpatine grimaced, tilting his head upward just slightly as Anakin made it to his feet. “...I’m sorry, Anakin. But the senator in question is in fact, a _her._ A woman you know...quite well, I’d say.”

The blood pounding in his ears, the heat creeping up beneath his fingernails, spreading through his body like black veins. No, that wasn’t possible, Anakin was sure of it. “What? You mean… Surely you don’t mean Padme? You don’t mean to imply that she and Obi-Wan… she and Knight Kenobi...”

“...I’m afraid so.”

“That’s _impossible!_ I would _know_ \--” Anakin broke off his sentence and fell unceremoniously back into his chair. He may not have fainted physically, but emotionally he had swooned. _Obi-Wan_ and _Padme? Last night?_ Late last night? Obi-Wan had told him that he was meeting with Master Windu--oh, what a _fool_ he’d been! Not to question why Master Windu would request Obi-Wan’s presence so late, to discuss a mission that they had not officially been assigned yet--yes, it was plausible. It was plausible and Obi-Wan knew just that much. It was just as plausible to take a speeder from the Temple to the Senate Building.

Senator Palpatine was radiating sympathy, and Anakin pushed it away as he stayed sprawled across his chair, his gaze finding the ceiling as he zoned in on Palpatine’s heartbeat. It remained steady as the senator spoke.. “Sometimes, the closest,” The riddles were back, yet they had never been less comforting. “Are those who cannot see.”

Anakin didn’t reply--he was still reeling from the revelation. There may have been talk of conspiracy, of misuse of the Force, of _treason--_ but Senator Palpatine’s implication was clear. Obi-Wan wasn’t just manipulating senators with the Force--he had seduced Padme in other ways as well. _I love the way your ankles look on my shoulders. I can be a selfish man, Anakin._ Anakin wanted to scrub at his skin with a bristle brush. Palpatine continued, and his gaze had found the window once more, though this time it was more of an attempt to give Anakin at least a false sense of privacy. “I would know… I would know.” Anakin didn’t bother to try and figure out what Palpatine meant by that, to try and suss out when the Senator had been betrayed before and why, and instead just listened to his hollow sounding words. “It may be nothing, Anakin. Don’t take it too hard. Perhaps it was not Knight Kenobi that one of my friends in the Senate saw leaving Senator Amidala’s quarters at a late hour last night. Or perhaps Knight Kenobi and Senator Amidala had a legitimate reason for meeting. There is a truth out there, Anakin. It is what I need you to find.”

Anakin had opted for staring holes into the floor, to where Palpatine’s feet gently dusted the neutral carpet. “...I can do that.” He could. He would. Treason, that could probably stand to wait. But he would find out about the rumours about Obi-Wan iminently. He would confront Obi-Wan--but first he would assimilate his evidence. If what Senator Palpatine had heard about Obi-Wan was true, and he was with Padme the previous night, then Obi-Wan obviously had no trouble telling him lies. The only way Anakin could know for sure would be to wrap the truth, and trap Obi-wan in his lies.

Now Palpatine was smiling, though it was bittersweet, and he watched Anakin rise to his feet, wondering if he’d be able stay standing this time. “Good, Anakin. I knew I could count on you.”

“Always, Senator. Always.” Anakin promised faithfully, dipping his head in a show of respect, as well as nonverbal thanks for passing this information along to him. Even if it left him gaping, bloody, and gutless--he would rather know than to continue swathed in lies. He would go back to the Temple, to unveil the truth, but first he would finish his business in the Senate Building. There was truth to overturn here--he would go to her. He would find Padme and he would find her truth. Hopefully, just hopefully, he wouldn’t find Obi-Wan’s there with hers. Hopefully they weren’t one truth to be told.

However, Anakin couldn’t say that he believed in last hopes, anymore.

.

.

Anakin stormed to Padme’s quarters. No matter how calmly or quietly he tried to walk there, he still came on like a rolling thunder storm, charcoal grey cloak obscuring his fast, harsh steps, lightning seeming to pulse at his fingertips. A meeting with Master Windu, at nearly midnight--oh, how could he have been so blind?

When he got to Padme’s quarters, he didn’t even knock, throwing all decorum to the wind and throwing a hand forward and watching as the door slid open unceremoniously. He barged in, just as unceremoniously, and glanced around. “Padme?” He called out in a flat, unwavering voice. He got no response but silence, and closed his eyes for a moment, feeling towards the other rooms. There was no energy, so Padme must have been in Senate or in a meeting. That was all for the better, Anakin supposed, as he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep a level head in confrontation.

He kept his eyes shut and breathed in a long, quiet inhale. Red, red, red, his breath was red--the room _reeked_ of Obi-Wan. His force imprint was everywhere, all in the air, on the furniture, and Anakin held the red puff of air in his lungs until his head started to feel a little light, then exhaled, watching it dissipate into the air like red smoke from a fire. Obi-Wan’s force was blue, it was almost always blue, and Anakin reached out as if to run his hand through Obi-Wan’s lingering force in the air. He walked over to the couch and held his hand out, feeling a heavy concentration of Obi-Wan’s force on the right side of the couch. He settled down into the spot, and now he was fully encompassed by Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan had been here, he had sat here, he had _lied_ \--! Anakin let his hand fall to his side, and he could feel an echo of Padme there.

_That’s a little close for conversation_.

Anakin wanted to rage, wanted to rip the cushions up with his bare hands until he couldn’t feel Obi-Wan’s force signature anymore, but he didn’t move. Instead, he tipped his head back against the couch and rolled it, inhaling Obi-Wan’s too-familiar smell, along with the bitter tang of betrayal. His fingers dug into the cushions and he writhed against the couch--masking Obi-Wan’s force with his own, until they had become intertwined, confused, he had _lied--_

“Ani? What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the afternoon, and you didn’t comm me.”

With his head still pressed back to the back of the couch, he opened his eyes and was greeted to the upside-down sight of Padme standing in the doorway. Her hair was intricately coiffed and she was dressed for a day in Senate, dark colours and elaborate makeup, but not nearly enough makeup to hide her _lies_ from him. Anakin laughed mirthlessly, and didn’t move, though the blood was beginning to uncomfortably rush to his head. “Waiting for you,” Anakin replied and although Padme’s expression remained neutral, he could feel an unnerved fluctuation in her energy. “What are _you_ doing here in the middle of the afternoon?” _Waiting for Obi-Wan?_

Padme sniffed, and rounded the couch to stand in front of him, which finally prompted him to push himself up from the couch, forcing her to direct her gaze up at him. “I have a very important meeting in two hours,” she replied, crossing her arms and looking up at him, defiant yet with a hint of concern. She’d always hated his games. “I left a document reader in here this morning--”

“Meeting? Is it with the _Chancellor?_ ” Anakin practically spat it at her, words coming out too harsh, too fast, but he couldn’t feel his mouth anymore. “Is it his _last meeting of the afternoon?_ ”

Padme spluttered. “Y-yes, yes it is-- _Anakin_ ,” she frowned, then tentatively reached out a hand to touch his arm. “What’s--”

“I have to be there, too!” Anakin bit out, pulling away from her attempted touch, and taking a few harsh strides away, letting out a ragged exhale.

“Anakin!” Padme’s emotionless, professional tone finally cracked completely, and she followed Anakin across the room, confusion and distress wafting from her so strongly that it almost made Anakin cough. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Anakin spun around to face her and it startled her--she took an impulsive step back. “Obi-Wan’s been here, hasn’t he?”

Padme blinked, and he saw her eyes dart unconsciously to the sofa. “He came by last night,” she replied slowly, forcing her hands to her sides and Anakin watched, almost taking perverse pleasure in how uncomfortable she was.

_Sometimes the closest are those who cannot see._

How _could_ she?

How could _he?_

“Why?” Padme asked, confusion overtaking her distress for a moment as he stood there, in silence aside from his breathing, which was too heavy for the room, it felt as though it might shatter the windows, break the furniture.

“What did you talk about?” Anakin circumvented her question with his own and her brow furrowed and frown deepened as she stared at him.

“Ani, why are you acting like this--?

Anakin closed the distance between them, looming over her with a threatening presence that was not sincere. He glared down at her--she looked very small, very insignificant, very much like something that he could crush beneath his heel and just keep walking. “What did you _talk about?_ ” he yelled this at her, and he watched the way that her eyes almost instantly flooded with tears. Part of him felt guilty, guilty that he would try to intimidate Padme, one of the only people who had always supported him, always loved him, and been on his side. The only one who knew about what happened to his mother… But that part of him didn’t win out over the part of him that thought she deserved to cry.

He could feel her anger pulsating at first, thick and weighed down, as she transfixed him with a teary stare, and he waited, waited to see if she would lash back. At this point, he almost wanted her to. However, she didn’t. Instead, she deflated, hurt colouring her features. “Obi-Wan came to confide in me, some jedi matters. I would not betray his trust by detailing his concerns,” she replied, a little stiffly, but the pain in her voice was evidence.

Anakin wavered, almost backing down but still remaining in his dominant position. “ _Why_ would he not talk to me about these matters?”

Padme slowly began to build herself back up and closed the small gap between them, defiance glossing over her features once more. “Because he’s _worried_ about you, Anakin. He says you’re under a lot of stress.”

“And he’s _not?”_ Anakin replied in disbelief. He had come to get answers, but all he had managed to get was more questions. There was still so much hidden, and Anakin knew he could take what he wanted from Padme by force, he could find out the truth, but using the Force on Padme… That was a low that he wasn’t sure he could forgive himself for. Not when she obviously still cared about him, he could see as much in her eyes.

“The way you’ve been acting, Anakin--”

“ _I’m_ not the one doing the _acting!_ I’m not the one doing the pretending! I’m not the one sneaking _in_ here late at _night!_ ”

Padme sighed heavily, and watched as Anakin raged, his own eyes beginning to shine with tears, and she reached out to gently lay a hand against his chest.

“Anakin, please,” she said softly, gazing up at him with softer lines on her face, “I don’t know what you think, I don’t _understand_ . Can’t you trust that neither Obi-Wan nor myself would ever have ill intentions toward you? I promise you, Ani, this had _nothing_ to do with you.”

Though her touch and her words had began to soothe him, the last sentence sent him reeling again. He ripped himself away from her as though her touch was violent, and he was seeing red again. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” he growled, storming from the room without a backward glance. “I’ll see you at the meeting, _Senator_.”

Anakin still knew nothing, but he already knew more than he wished he did.

.

.

Obi-Wan was pacing.

He knew that the very act of pacing was far more agitating than sitting, and meditating, but even great jedi knights occasionally gave into nerves. And as far as nerves went, well, Obi-Wan’s bar was set pretty high.

About two hours prior, while he was talking strategy with the Republic Fleet that he and Anakin were to head, he had gotten a comm. It had been Padme, and the senator rarely commed him. Either she had pertinent information for the upcoming mission, as he knew that she was meeting with Chancellor Palpatine that afternoon--that’s where _Anakin_ was-- _or_ it had something to do with the night before. Both were urgent scenarios, so Obi-Wan had excused himself immediately to take the comm.

The news she had relayed to him was worse than anything he ever could have imagined, and the fact that he had gone back to strategizing afterward was a true testament to his self-control and dignity, more so than anyone would ever know.

Padme had commed to inform him that Anakin had stopped by her quarters that afternoon. _Disturbed, suspicious, aggressive, derailed_ \--just a few of the adjectives that Padme had used to describe Anakin.

He had found out about their meeting the night before, Padme said that she didn’t know _how_ , she thought maybe _he_ had told him, and Obi-Wan had scoffed, then replied that no, he hadn’t, but he didn’t have to think so hard about who did. Obi-Wan didn’t know what Chancellor Palpatine’s intentions were yet, but he did know that they existed, and the Council thought they were foul. Initially, he had been inclined to give the Chancellor the benefit of the doubt, but that inclination was running out. He couldn’t imagine what context Chancellor Palpatine could have had for bringing up his midnight rendezvous with Padme, unless it was to stir the pot. And Anakin was a pot that did _not_ need to be stirred.

Obi-Wan had been relieved, though not surprised, to hear that Padme had not revealed his secret, but that relief was short lived as she told him that Anakin had left in just as much of a rage as he had arrived in. Padme still seemed confused about Anakin’s behaviour, but Obi-Wan swallowed the unpleasant lump in his throat to admit that there was only one explanation for this kind of behaviour-- _jealousy_.

The only thing that Obi-Wan found himself confused about, and he did not admit this to Padme, was who exactly Anakin was jealous over. If he truly believed that he and Padme were… _involved_ , he would fault them both for lying, that was undoubted. But who inspired jealousy? Obi-Wan knew that his and Anakin’s relationship had taken a turn for the physical in recent years, but he didn’t know what his and Padme’s relationship was, withstanding. It was possible that he was angered by the thought of Obi-Wan laying with another, if Anakin himself was not doing the same. It was also possible that he was jealous of the idea of Obi-Wan _touching_ Padme, _fucking_ her, because he wanted to be doing those things.

Obi-Wan certainly knew which option would feel the worse, even if both resulted in the same outcome.

He had thanked Padme for calling to warn him, and told her that he would take care of it when Anakin returned. He also apologized, for putting her in that position, and she assured him that no fault was his. Then she told him that she was worried about Anakin. He had sighed, and that was the only agreement he had needed to give.

Of course, Padme had commed nearly two hours before the meeting that Anakin had to attend with the Chancellor, and the meeting was not brief, so Obi-Wan was left waiting for Anakin’s return for the remainder of the afternoon and into the evening. The anticipation felt worse than any fight could be, but Obi-Wan would soon be proven wrong, and he would wish he could’ve just kept anticipating forever.

Anakin arrived abruptly, all at once. The door to their quarters slammed open so hard that the durasteel reverberated, and Anakin prowled into the room. He looked like a predator, sniffing out Obi-Wan’s force like a predator sniffing blood in the air. Obi-Wan’s hand reflexively went to his stomach and he moved it away just as quickly. He turned to face Anakin, keeping his expression neutral, and trying to mask his apprehension with a calm force wave.

“Master,” The word felt like a bite, and Anakin left him bleeding. His pretense of normality was weak, and Obi-Wan wondered if Anakin was really even trying to convince him at all. “There is much we should discuss about my meetings at the Senate Building today. They proved to be...fruitful.”

Obi-Wan forced a pleasant, placid expression on his face, and nodded. “Of course. Why don’t we--”

“But _first,_ ” Anakin had been crouching, flicking his tail, and now he went in for the kill. “I want to hear about your meeting with Master Windu last night.”

He had been had, Obi-Wan already knew that, and he knew the sensible thing to do would be to confess. If he came clean out of his own volition, maybe he could reason with Anakin. If he forced Anakin to back him into a corner like a wounded animal, Anakin would only become more convinced of his guilt. _Actually, I met with Senator Amidala last night._ “Actually--”

“How was that meeting, _Master?_ ” Anakin circled the room purposefully, eyes never leaving Obi-Wan who was struggling to keep his neutrality, to overpower Anakin calmly.

“Actually Anakin, my meeting--”

“Your meeting? _Your_ meeting? Why don’t I actually just tell you about _my meeting_ first, Obi-Wan?”

“Anakin, listen to me--”

Anakin wasn’t quite shouting, but he may as well have been. His force was so loud that it was all Obi-Wan could do not to flinch. “Imagine my surprise, when today Chancellor Palpatine demanded my immediate presence. What could be _such an emergency_ , that the Chancellor would need me immediately? And it turns out, that the Chancellor suspects a _conspiracy_ . _Treason_ . Now _imagine my surprise_ , when your name is mentioned within the first forty-five seconds of the meeting.”

Now Obi-Wan was confused, and he scrunched his face to reflect as much. The Chancellor suspected his involvement in _treason_ ? A red hot anger, rarely felt in Obi-Wan’s chest, burned--the Chancellor would dare to use _his_ padawan against him?

Anakin plowed on, though, and Obi-Wan vowed to revisit the thought later. “Do not fault Chancellor Palpatine for perpetrating this rumour, he admitted that the senator who saw you _sneaking into Senator Amidala’s room_ at an indecent hour last night could have been _wrong._ ”

“Anakin--”

“But they _weren’t wrong_ , were they Obi-Wan?” Anakin was close to him now, looming over him, but Obi-Wan felt as if he might as well have been on another planet, in another system, he felt so far away. “You were in Padme’s room last night, you never met with Master Windu. She _told me you were with her!_ You were all over _couch_ , were you all over _her_ as well?”

“Out of line, Anakin!” Obi-Wan reprimanded, and almost regretted it when Anakin exploded.

“Out of line? _I’m_ out of line? How _dare you!_ You _lied to me!_ You snuck out to visit Padme’s private quarters late at night, and there’s only two reasons to sneak around, isn’t there, _Master?_ Treason or fucking--which one were you doing? Or is it both?”

“ _Anakin_ , I met with Padme last night. And I never should have lied about that, but did it occur to you that I didn’t tell you the truth because I knew you would react like _this?_ ” Obi-Wan shot back, and their force signatures were running so high that they were colliding in invisible colourful sparks.

“What did you need with her?” Anakin demanded, seething and gripping his hand at his side so hard that it would’ve hurt if it weren’t a prosthetic.

“I wanted a fresh ear, to discuss matters on Christophsis--”

“LIAR!”

Anakin did yell this time, and Obi-Wan was at a loss. Anakin was advancing, so angry, so passionate, so charged, and Obi-Wan didn’t know what to say to make him stop. “Anakin, I can promise you, Padme and I are not involved. If you are interested in being with her--”

That had not been the right thing to say.

“ _Her? Padme?_ You think I’m jealous because I think _you’re_ fucking _Padme_?”

Obi-Wan blinked, uncertain of how to respond, and was oddly grateful when Anakin barrelled on without giving him a chance to respond.

“It doesn’t occur to you that this is about _you?_ About you fucking someone who isn’t _me?_ ”

Obi-Wan huffed, the briefest of reprieves from their fight. “It’s not an unfair assumption, Anakin. Before you...joined me in my bed, you seemed pretty interested in Padme. I felt some...disturbances in the force while you were hiding out with her. Besides, you’ve never talked to me about it, because you assumed I wouldn’t listen, how am I supposed to know your feelings?”

Anakin huffed, wavering on the line between annoyance and anger, then narrowed his eyes. “I’m _not_ interested in Padme, and I don’t care who she lays with. And we _kissed_ once--wow, Obi-Wan, you thought what? That because you felt something in the force _once_ when I was with her, that I was fucking her? Is that why you thought it was okay to fuck her?”

Obi-Wan threw his hands up and tried to walk away from Anakin, but his padawan trailed him and reached out to grab his wrist and keep him in place. “Anakin--”

“Fuck Padme if you want to, but I can’t believe you _lied_ to me--and you made her part of it! Aside from you, and her, I don’t have a single person who is ever completely honest with me. You think I don’t know that the Jedi Council still hides things from me? That they don’t _trust me?_ That no matter what the Chancellor tells them to give me, they’ll still hold back something? And now you--my own Jedi master… I feel like I’m in free fall, Obi-Wan! Free fall in the dark. I don’t know which way is up. I don’t know where I’ll be when I land. Or crash. I think it’s going to be a crash. The Council doesn’t trust me, Palpatine doesn’t trust the Council, both sides are _pressuring me,_ and I’m still not enough, I’m not the Jedi I should be, I’m not the _man_ I should be, and _nobody_ understands! I thought you might, I thought you could, but I was wrong, wrong again! I’m one of the most powerful Jedi alive, but it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough! I thought that if I could count on anything, I could count on you, to trust me, to be _honest with me_ , but here I find out, you’re going behind my back, too--even if you’re _not_ fucking Padme behind my back, you’re telling her things that you don’t tell me, and I can’t--everything is so _screwed up_ and knowing that _even you_ don’t trust me just has to be the final blow--”

“I’m with child!”

Obi-Wan blurted it out so suddenly, so loudly, that he startled himself, but it was nothing compared to the look of sheer shock and confusion on Anakin’s face. He hadn’t meant to say it, he hadn’t wanted to, but Anakin had just kept yelling and yelling, and he was becoming completely unravelled. He had been worried about his padawan for a while now, it was one of the many reasons he had decided it was for the best if he kept the pregnancy from Anakin. Anakin had already been so troubled, so stressed, he didn’t want to add to that. But it looked as though it were no longer an option, and if this was the only way to gain back Anakin’s trust, to let Anakin know that he still was and always would be the one person always in Anakin’s corner, then so be it.

Anakin opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. Closed it. The silence now in the room was a stark contrast from the yelling, the room had become so silent that Obi-Wan could hear Anakin breathe, and not breathe, Finally, in a voice that almost seemed too quiet for the room, he asked, “ _What?_ ”

“I’m pregnant.” Obi-Wan said after sucking in a quiet breath and gazing at Anakin with a hint of sadness in his eyes.

“Y-you? Y-you’re--” Anakin trailed off, continuing to stare at Obi-Wan in shock and confusion, finally letting his eyes drop down slowly to his stomach.

“Yes. I’m pregnant. That’s what Padme and I were talking about last night. I asked her to take a vow of silence, that’s why she wouldn’t tell you what business I had with her. I went late at night to be discreet. We aren’t involved, I just… I needed to tell someone.”

Anakin was still gaping, almost blankly, and it was getting rather unnerving. From all the reactions Obi-Wan had expected from Anakin, this wasn’t one of them, at least not so far.

“Padme knows? Does anyone else know?”

Obi-Wan grimaced. “Master Yoda knows.” he held up a hand to stop Anakin from making any indignant remarks, “Master Yoda could...feel it in my force. He knew before I did. I told Padme last night, and that’s all.”

Anakin nodded, and Obi-Wan could almost see the gears turning in his mind, but he couldn’t tell what they were saying. “How long?”

Obi-Wan grimaced again. “Just a few weeks, that’s all. I was going to tell you, I just… I wanted to wait. I know you’re under a great deal of stress from the Council, from the Chancellor, and unfortunately sometimes from myself, and I didn’t want to make it worse.”

Anakin remained quiet, standing just a mere foot away from Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan shuffled his feet just slightly. “So you’re...pregnant? Is it--whose--is it _mine?_ ”

Obi-Wan laughed humorlessly in exasperation, then shook his head softly when he noticed how offended and horrified Anakin looked upon his laughter. “ _Yes_ , Anakin. It’s _yours_ . There _isn’t_ anyone else--surely I don’t have to remind you of how it happened?” Obi-Wan’s cheeks reddened slightly in spite of his best efforts to remain calm and professional.

Anakin was silent for a while longer and Obi-Wan felt like constellations were born and died in his eyes, until finally, Anakin spoke slowly. “That is…” he trailed off and Obi-Wan braced himself. However, a second later he was yelping, because Anakin’s hands were encircling his waist, and he was swept off his feet. “ _Wonderful_ . Obi-Wan, that’s _wonderful!_ ” Anakin spun him around a couple of times, and Obi-Wan gripped his shoulders reflexively when his feet left the floor, squeezing even tighter when he was finally lowered back to the floor. Anakin gazed at him for a few seconds, then leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Obi-Wan’s mouth, and wrapped arms around him for a warm embrace.

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan mumbled into Anakin’s shoulder, and although he hugged him back, the pit in his stomach was bigger than ever.

_Why_ hadn’t he considered this possibility? He had been so focused on what would happen if the news stressed Anakin out, or upset him, he had never even stopped to consider what would happen if Anakin took the news...happily. If he was happy… Obi-Wan didn’t even know what that would mean. He couldn’t fathom _why_ Anakin was happy, did he not understand the ramifications of this? Of _children?_

It had been such an immediate switch, Obi-Wan felt like his head was spinning. From yelling and accusing, to literally sweeping him off his feet and smiling. In that moment, Anakin had looked so pure, so happy, that Obi-Wan wished that there was some way for him to preserve it. But there wasn’t.

Anakin pulled back from the hug so that he could see Obi-Wan’s face, then almost immediately went back in for another hug. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Obi-Wan,” he pressed his face against Obi-Wan’s neck and kissed, squeezing him a little tighter around the waist, then gave a soft little _oh_ and loosened his grip, as if worried about the...foetus. Not a baby yet. “I don’t know what’s come over me. It’s just the Chancellor Palpatine is having me do so much for him, and I don’t want to disappoint him, because he trusts me--something the Council still fails to do--but I still want to prove myself to the Council. And I know how important these upcoming missions, and my training of Ahsoka, are in order to do that, I just don’t have _time_ for Senate drama, but I can’t _tell_ the Chancellor that. Anyway, I’m sorry. I lost my temper, and I treated you unfairly. _I_ should have trusted _you_ more.” Anakin held on for a bit longer, then pulled away and kissed Obi-Wan on the mouth again. “But this, this is such wonderful news, Obi-Wan. I just wish you hadn’t waited so long to tell me. Is that why you’ve been throwing up? Morning sickness? I’ve been so worried--”

Obi-Wan kissed back, but he gave a sigh. “Yes, the morning sickness has been...an unfortunate side effect. Now, I need you to listen to me, Anakin. It’s okay, it’s all okay. But we need to talk about this.”

Already, Anakin’s smile was gone, and Obi-Wan wished that he could have held onto it for just a little while longer. “Okay, Master,” Anakin replied, dropping his arms from Obi-Wan’s waist and gazing at him attentatively. “Why do I feel like I’m not going to like the conversation?”

Obi-Wan sighed. “It’s fine, Anakin. This is all on me. As a master, there are things that I haven’t told you, that I should have told you. Things about Jedi biology, about the midichlorians. Did your mother ever talk to you about reproduction?”

Anakin wrinkled his nose. “Kriffing hell, no. I was nine. The only thing that I wanted to reproduce were engines for my podracer.”

Obi-Wan tried to smile, but he knew that it came out as more of a pained wince, so he just moved on instead. “Well, passing on the midichlorians, _reproducing_ , is essential to our people, of course. As you know, midichlorians are found in all known species, not just humans. However, those who are force-sensitive don’t necessarily reproduce like the rest of their race.”

“I don’t--”

“Usually, reproduction is left up to force-sensitive individuals who never embark on the Jedi path. However, that doesn’t mean that those who do follow the Jedi path are not capable of reproduction. Not all force-sensitive individuals can reproduce, but those who can are called _carriers_ . That’s what I am. I have extra organs, extra... _functions_ in order to aid a partner in impregnating me, and to bear children. ”

Anakin’s eyes went wide. Immediately he looked down and hands went to his midriff, he looked vaguely horrified.

“You aren’t a carrier, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said with a gentle shake of his head. Anakin looked up at him, confused.

“How do you know? Like I said, my mother never talked to me about this, I don’t even know if _she_ knew about this, I don’t know what I am--”

Obi-Wan shook his head again. “Whether or not you’re a carrier depends on which parent you inherit your midichlorians from. If you inherit them from your dominant parent, the one who bears you that is, then you are not a carrier. If you inherit them from your other parent, then you are. That way, ideally, it takes turns every generation. My mother bore me, but I inherited my midichlorians from my father. Your mother reproduced asexually, meaning that you had to have inherited your midichlorians from her. So you aren’t a carrier. If you were, I promise, I wouldn’t have kept this from you. It just never seemed a relevant conversational topic, I didn’t think…” Obi-Wan let that sentence die in his mouth.

Anakin still looked a little confused, but like he was slowly working through the logistics in his head, so Obi-Wan lapsed into silence and allowed him to struggle his way to a question. “So, we had to… I had to...”

“In order for me reproduce, I needed to be penetrated, yes.” Obi-Wan’s ears were red, and he knew that he shouldn’t be embarrassed discussing sex with Anakin considering how much of it they’d had, but this was still relatively new territory.

“Hmm.” Anakin seemed more genuinely interested than disgusted, and that almost made it harder. “You weren’t... _trying_ to get pregnant, were you?”

“What?” Now Obi-Wan was blatantly horrified and he gawked at Anakin to show him as much. “No! Why would you ask me that?”

Anakin held up his hands in defence, then replied, “I figured you weren’t, but I thought I would ask. I mean, you didn’t say anything when I asked if I could... _you know_.”

Obi-Wan grimaced and his cheeks flushed again. “It was a moment of weakness, Anakin. I thought since it was just one time, I would be relatively safe. I now understood the expression _once is all it takes._ ”

Anakin was smirking; he looked rather self-satisfied and Obi-Wan fought back the urge to groan as Anakin teased him smugly. “You’ve only slipped up once in thirty-five years and it was for _my_ cock? Master, honestly, I’m flattered--”

“ _Anakin_.” Surprisingly, Anakin stopped when Obi-Wan asked; maybe he could feel the tension rolling off Obi-Wan in waves, or maybe he did recognize the severity of their situation even if he didn’t want to admit it. “You know what the Jedi Code says about having a family, don’t you? I didn’t fail so entirely as a Jedi Master…”

Anakin rolled his eyes. “You didn’t fail at all, Master. Yes, I know what it says....”

“That’s why almost all Jedis opt for a life of celibacy, or at least a life of not... _bottoming_ . Children fall under this part of the Jedi Code, for a matter of fact children are the _most_ off-limits connection for a Jedi Knight. Parenthood is forbidden on the Jedi path.”

Anakin was still staring at him like he didn’t quite understand, and Obi-Wan did actually sigh this time. Was he going to have to spell _everything_ out for Anakin? It was painful, really. “Once I deliver this child, I will have to renounce my title of Jedi Knight, and Jedi Master. I will be stripped of my seat on the Council, and I will, more or less, be banned from the Temple, except for under visiting policies. Socially, however, I will be exiled and my return to the Temple, no matter what the circumstances, will not be considered acceptable decorum.”

Now Anakin finally looked horrified, and Obi-Wan might harbour guilt for the rest of his life for reducing Anakin from a smile to this. “ _What?_ They _can’t do that,_ can they?” Anakin demanded, and his anger was flaring back up, ruffling the edges of his robe and glinting dangerously in his eyes.

“They can, Anakin, and they will--and what’s more--if they know that _you’re_ the father, they’ll do the same to you. You’ll never be a Jedi Master if they find out.”

Anakin was finally stunned into silence, and somehow, the silence was even louder than his shouting earlier had been. Obi-Wan felt his eyes burn as he watched Anakin’s face cloud over with anger, confusion, and shock. He wanted to reach out and wipe those negative emotions away, but he couldn’t protect Anakin from this anymore. In the long run, the earlier he told Anakin the less it would hurt. Okay, that was a lie. It would always hurt, but at least this way he would have longer to lick his wounds.

“This is… _no_ , they can’t! They’re making us _generals_ , they can’t just _throw us out!_ It’s unreasonable! It’s _un_ fair!” Anakin’s rage couldn’t cover up his desperation, and Obi-Wan knew how desperately Anakin wanted him to just say that everything would be okay, that he would talk the Council down, that they would be _happy_. Obi-Wan couldn’t give him what he wanted, but there was one thing he could give him. “They can’t throw you out, not if you don’t tell them,” Obi-Wan said at last, and he tried to ignore the deep-seated jealousy clawing at him from within. He would not resent Anakin for this. He wouldn’t.

Anakin gaped. “I don’t understand. If I don’t tell them--?”

Obi-Wan held his head high. _I love you, Anakin. It’s for your own good._ “Master Yoda has promised me his silence. I plan on telling the Council toward the end of my third trimester, before I deliver. I have made my bed, Anakin, and I will lie in it. I will except my banishment, I will relinquish my titles, and I will move away to raise… I will fulfill my new destiny.”

“Obi-Wan, isn’t that what I--”

Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut, and he could feel the tears burning at the back of his throat. _Don’t say it, Anakin_. “None, not Padme, not even Master Yoda, know that the child I carry is yours, Anakin. And I won’t tell them.” Anakin still looked blank. “And you don’t have to either.”

It all clicked at once and Anakin gasped. “ _Master!_ ”

“The fault is _not yours_ , Anakin. There is no reason for you to take the punishment.” Obi-Wan reached out gently and let his fingertips brush against Anakin’s cheek. “I have had a long path as a Jedi. I have had my chance to be a master, I have…” Obi-Wan had to take a breath and swallow. “I have raised the _Chosen One_ . None could be as lucky as me, Anakin. You are the _Chosen One,_ you are one of the most powerful Jedis alive, and above all, you are a much better Jedi than I could ever hope to be. I would never expect you to give that up. The galaxy needs you, Anakin, the Council needs you. I will manage.”

Obi-Wan meant it as the highest compliment, but Anakin recoiled as though Obi-Wan had spat on him. All at once, Obi-Wan was blasted with anger and pain from Anakin’s force signature, the blackest red, and he realized the space between them was crumbling, but it was too late.

“As you wish, _Master_ ,” Anakin spit out sarcastically before fleeing from the room at a dead-on run, leaving Obi-Wan frozen where he had been standing, embracing, only moments before. Anakin was gone, and Obi-Wan crumbled to the floor.

Everyone talked about what a joy it was to have a padawan.

No one ever talked about how it felt when they left.

Now Obi-Wan knew why.

.

.

The following week was one of the worst of Obi-Wan’s life. He went to Council when he absolutely had to, but he went to as few other meetings as possible, and he barely saw Anakin. It had only been around a day before Anakin had started speaking to him again, but he hadn’t said a single word about the pregnancy revelation. He hadn’t so much as let his eyes flicker downward to Obi-Wan’s stomach. He kept their conversations civil yet perfunctory, and the only time he was inclined to give more than a sentence or two of response was when the were discussing either Ahsoka or the upcoming mission to Christophsis. In all their years as master and padawan and all the time since, they had never been at such odds. They had always been a team--no not a team, _the_ team. Wherever Obi-Wan went, Anakin was always right there behind him. However, for the past week, Anakin had been throwing himself into training Ahsoka and running errands and sitting in on meetings for the Chancellor, and Obi-Wan had barely seen him. In addition to that, Anakin had gone back to sleeping in his own room, and he had barely been in any of the communal spaces in their quarters. It was subtle, not quite pointed, but it was enough to let Obi-Wan know that whatever flame had once burned between them had been extinguished by the cold downpour of reality. At least Anakin was still willing to work together for missions, Obi-Wan supposed, and at least he hadn’t decided to take any petty revenges and tell anyone about Obi-Wan’s conditions.

None of that made Obi-Wan feel any better, and the Temple, a once holy and sacred place for him that provided refuge between missions and helped him get in touch with his force when he needed to refocus, was tainted. Being there only reminded him of Anakin, reminded him of what he was giving up, and made him glumly wonder if he would ever see the Temple again after the next eight months passed. Already, he was almost a _month_ into his pregnancy. It had been a month since Anakin had pressed his face into the mattress and fucked him, a month that allowed the life inside of him to gestate, a month out of the nine that he was allotted to still be Knight Kenobi. The morning sickness had more or less subsided for the time being, and Obi-Wan was just waiting in dread for other pregnancy symptoms to kick in. Anakin would be off practicing katas with Ahsoka and he would be soaking his swelling feet. And on top of it all, Anakin wouldn’t even be speaking to him.

He knew that he had done wrong, he had been irresponsible, and he should have never put himself at risk for this outcome. However, the punishment he was now receiving for his carelessness...some small selfish part of him didn’t think that it fit the crime. One mistake and he would never be a Jedi again, and he would probably never have any sort of relationship with Anakin ever again. Over the past week, he had received numerous comments everywhere he went it seemed, inquiring about Anakin’s absence. No one ever seemed to appreciate his and Anakin’s inseparability, but of course, now that they were separated, everyone felt the need to nag him about it. _Believe it or not, Anakin is not always right by my side,_ he had responded snippily the last time the question was poised. He had regretted it for the remainder of the day.

Being in his quarters and being in the Temple was a source of more stress than pleasure for him these days, and there was still another day or two before they would deploy for their mission, so in the meantime, Obi-Wan spent much of his time outside, either walking or meditating.

The fresh air was good for him, and he had managed to regain some of that inner-balance that he’d felt he lost, as he tried to feel comfortable in his own body once more, as impossible as it seemed, but it did give him a lot of time alone with his thoughts. He was looking forward to the upcoming mission, leading a fleet and preparing a rescue mission would be just the right level of distraction that he needed.

Now he stood in a small forest clearing, gazing out at the trees and listening to the gentle breeze ruffle around him. He’d had to take a small ship to get out here and it was left about fifty yards from where he was. The Temple was in the heart of Coruscant City, and there was no green space for as long as the eye could see. While Obi-Wan had no issue with the duracrete and durasteel jungles, it was a natural Jedi inclination to enjoy the lull of nature. After all, the Force came from nature and to nature it returned. Expectations seemed to fall away when out in nature, and Obi-Wan could almost forget the expectations that awaited him back at the Temple. The Force was all around him, he could feel it cradle around him gently and it was calming, especially as he could feel no one else in the forest, no other life forms.

Which is why, when he felt a flutter and then gentle a disturbance in the Force, he was startled. His hand immediately, and smoothly, moved to the hilt of his lightsaber where it was clipped onto his belt. He turned slowly, and his eyes blew wide in shock, lips parting and hand falling away from his saber limply.

“Fourteen years of training and you already cannot detect my force signature? I don’t know whether to be disappointed in you, or myself.”

“M-Master…” Obi-Wan said the word quietly, his voice catching on the air between him and the Force ghost of his deceased master. In the fourteen years since Qui-Gon’s untimely death, his master had never appeared to him. Of course Obi-Wan knew about Force ghosts, about the afterlife and how Jedis lived on. He had often wished over the years to commune with the Force ghost of his master, but he understood why Qui-Gon never appeared to him. Qui-Gon had been insistent towards the end of his training that soon he would only be holding him back from being the great Jedi that he was meant to grow into. Qui-Gon had felt strongly about Anakin, and Obi-Wan had wondered if sometimes Qui-Gon had a perverse sense of pleasure in knowing that Obi-Wan had been forced to eat all of his words about Anakin, and not only agree to train him, but _enjoy_ training him. And he had enjoyed it, maybe he had enjoyed it a little _too_ much. That’s undoubtedly why, after fourteen years, Qui-Gon was appearing to him.

“Of course, there’s much more to say on the topic of disappointment than whether or not you are properly in tune with my force.”

_Undoubtedly why_.

Obi-Wan wanted to respond, he wanted to rebuke the unfair words, he wanted to tell Qui-Gon that he knew exactly why he was there and that he would own up to it without hesitation. Maybe he was emotionally compromised from seeing his once-was master, maybe the week was finally just catching up to him, maybe it was the _hormones_ his body was now secreting at a rapid pace, but all Obi-Wan could manage to do was nod and shrivel, arms crossing as he tried not to shed any tears.

“They say that once you establish a force bond with your padawan, you will always feel it, at least in twinges, forever. Death is no obstacle to this.”

Seeing Qui-Gon so pale, almost colorless, was strange for Obi-Wan. He looked the same as he had the day he died, yet there were so many details that colour had brought, and now Obi-Wan found himself wishing he could see all those small details again. He tried not to focus too much on what was missing and instead focused on what was present. Like Qui-Gon’s gentle, disapproving frown, and the disappointment shading in his eyes. That was present.

“There are certain things I never thought I would feel through our bond, Obi-Wan. Specifically, the presence of another.”

Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut and fisted his hands at his sides. It was amazing--he was widely regarded as one of the greatest Jedi Knights in the galaxy, he was the Jedi Master of the _Chosen One_ , and he had been a teacher for the better part of fourteen years now. Yet standing here, in front of his master, he felt like a padawan again. Like he’d just played with his lightsaber and gotten burned--he didn’t feel like an adult, a teacher, a knight, a _general_ , not in that moment. He felt like a padawan learner who had made a mistake and wanted his master to fix it for him. It was humiliating and he stared down at his feet when he opened his eyes. A couple of tears fell from his eyes and hit the grass beneath his feet without ado. “I didn’t expect the presence of another, either, Master. Surely you know that.”

“I do,” Qui-Gon replied calmly, with no inflection.

“And you are well-aware of who the father is?”

“I am.”

Obi-Wan sighed in frustration and squeezed his fists a little tighter before releasing with a huff. “Then you understand, you know why I must shoulder this alone. I can’t tell the Council, Anakin is _The Chosen One_. Only he can bring balance to the Force. Anyone can do what I’m doing.”

Qui-Gon just shook his head. “That’s not true, Obi-Wan. Not anyone can do what you’re doing.”

Obi-Wan groaned this time, feeling downright embarrassed at the direction that the conversation was heading. The last thing he wanted to discuss with his Master’s force ghost was his uterus. “How could I ever forget, _you_ can’t, _Anakin_ can’t, it’s just _me_ that’s cursed, that’s stuck with this poisonous _gift!_ ” Obi-Wan had perhaps never spoken so brashly in his life and he took a sharp breath then looked away from Qui-Gon, embarrassed by his emotional outcry.

Qui-Gon didn’t reply, simply stared at him with those nearly-blank eyes in appraisal, and Obi-Wan turned away, frustrated and distraught. Though he would’ve been happy to see his master again under any circumstances, these were probably the very worst that he could have imagined.

Qui-Gon was silent for so long that Obi-Wan wouldn’t have even known that he were still there if it weren’t for the gentle, soft white, hum of the Force around him. Qui-Gon had a very distinct force signature; Obi-Wan must have truly been out of it earlier not to feel it when Qui-Gon first materialized. Though, to be fair, his force signature was weaker now, as it existed between realms, one realm that Obi-Wan did not have access to. At this point, he did not fear death. He never had, not really, but for the first time in his life, he feared living.

“Obi-Wan.”

He felt a gentle pressure on his shoulder, it wasn’t a physical touch as Qui-Gon couldn’t make physical contact with him, but it was a touch from Qui-Gon’s force signature. Obi-Wan didn’t reply but he didn’t recoil from the touch either.

“I made myself explicit, did I not? That, as a carrier, if you were to engage in fornication--” Obi-Wan cringed at the word choice. “You would need to _top_ , unless you desired reproduction.” Obi-Wan cringed even more. “Yet, here you are. And you did not desire this, did you?”

Obi-Wan was flushing, and he had to wonder if Qui-Gon was genuinely curious and confused by this, or if he was just shaming him. Either way, he was ashamed. “No, I did not desire this. But I desired _Anakin_ and I had a moment of weakness. I’m sure I don’t need to detail _that_ for you.” Obi-Wan shot back, and he vaguely wondered if his relationship with Anakin discomfited Qui-Gon. After all, it was Qui-Gon’s literal dying wish that Obi-Wan train Anakin. He considered asking, but the moment didn’t seem appropriate.

“Obi-Wan,”  Qui-Gon repeated his name and Obi-Wan nearly exploded.

“Look, I am perfectly aware of my folly, _Master,_ ” Obi-Wan replied, spinning around with a flair that his actions usually lacked. “Trust me, I am suffering for my mistake, I will pay for stepping outside of my ordained role for the _rest of my life_ , and I think that I have already paid two and a half times the price for my actions--if you appeared to me to tell me that I have ruined everything, and let you down, and failed Anakin, then it was a _waste of the Force_ because that’s a lesson I don’t need to be taught. I know what I have done.”

It was silent, and Obi-Wan kept expecting Qui-Gon to vanish before his eyes, but surprisingly his master stuck around, gazing at him with a blank stare. Finally he sighed and his eyes finally softened--it was enough to bring tears to Obi-Wan’s.

“That is not what I came to you, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said gently, and Obi-Wan felt another gentle prod from Qui-Gon’s force signature. “I will admit, when I first sensed your pregnancy, I was shocked. I knew it was not something you would want. And I do think you’re an exceptional Jedi--you have grown into the Jedi Knight I always knew you would be, and you have been a great Jedi Master, better than I ever could have hoped to be. You have become everything I ever wanted you to be, and I am very, very proud of you. And yes, it is hard for me to not think of this as a waste, when there are so many force-sensitive creatures in this galaxy who will never be Jedis and who will pass on the midichlorians to their offspring.” Obi-Wan crumpled at the words, and Qui-Gon sighed softly, paused, then continued. “But I do not think it is a waste, Obi-Wan. I am glad that you appreciated my training, but if you believe that bearing children, passing on your midichlorians and continuing the legacy of our people is a _waste_ , then there was a disproportionate failure on my part for ever making you believe that. Being a carrier is a gift, my padawan--the Force lives more strongly with you than anything else in all of the galaxies. There is nothing _poisonous_ about it. I know that the Jedi Path is flouted at the most honourable path that one can take, that it is the only destiny for those of us who are force-sensitive, but this is not true. The Jedi Path is only one path of many--carrying is another. And carrying is just as honourable as living by the Jedi Code. Carrying is sacred to our people Obi-Wan, as life is a gift, blessed to us by the Force. For you to give life, _Force_ , to another is selfless and noble, and builds a strong foundation for our people. My only disappoint is not having the opportunity to know the Kenobi offspring, because I have no doubts that they will be worth knowing, and they will be strong, in the Force and in character, like their carrier.”

Obi-Wan’s tears were overflowing now, despite his best attempts at remaining stoic, and he couldn’t even reasonably blame it on the hormones anymore. “I…” Obi-Wan tried to speak but found he had nothing to say. He faltered, then unceremoniously dropped to his knees, head bowed and heart aching. “I’ve been such a _fool_ . I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do, Master. I have never doubted myself _so much_ ,” Saying the words out loud was like a purge and Obi-Wan felt his pain seep from his Force signature like dark grey sludge.

Qui-Gon did not reply, but his Force signature gently enveloped Obi-Wan and told him what he already knew. _Endure_. That’s all there was to do. Endure.

.

.

“Hey, Snips,” Anakin was reclining back against a post, feet kicked up, as he bit into an exotic looking fruit and watched Ahsoka do all the hard work. He would spar with her in a little while, he swore, but she needed to practice her katas first.

“Yes, Master?” Ahsoka replied dutifully, not taking her eyes off the katas as she tossed one, then skillfully levitated it.

“Are you a carrier?”

Ahsoka squeaked and lost concentration, the kata clattering to the floor as she spun around to look at her master, then spun back to look at the fallen weapon. “Oh, _kriff_ ,” she muttered, reaching up to tug at one of her montrals in embarrassment. She was blushing a pale orangeish colour and Anakin couldn’t help but snort.

“Oh, calm down, Snips. I’m not about to proposition you,” Anakin rolled his eyes, “What kind of Jedi Master would that make me?” Ahsoka didn’t know about him and Obi-Wan--at least he didn’t think she did--so she couldn’t appreciate the little joke, but Anakin amused himself.

Ahsoka tugged at her montral again and handed then handed the katas to Anakin, well, more like she thrust them in his face. He levitated them out of her hands and placed them down on the bench with a little flick of his wrist.

“No, I’m not a...carrier.” Ahsoka replied, still blushing a little, just at the hint of indirectly talking to her master about sex. She trusted Anakin, and would have told him a great deal about almost anything, personal or otherwise, but this wasn’t one of those things.

“Hmm.” Anakin didn’t have much to say in response to that, directing his gaze back to his half-eaten piece of fruit.

“...are you?” Ahsoka regretted asking as soon as she did, and if Anakin would have been mad about the invasive question usually, he couldn’t be once he saw the embarrassment on her face.

He laughed, genuinely really laughed for the first time in days, and then shook his head. “No, I’m not a carrier.”

Ahsoka breathed out a sigh of relief, and she wasn’t sure whether it was because Anakin hadn’t gotten angry with her, or because she was reassured that he hadn’t broached the topic in order to tell her that he was _carrying_. Probably both.

“The person who bore me...uhh, carried me...my mother, anyway, she was force sensitive, I guess. Rather, she had to be, because there was no one else--just her. She never did anything with it, or trained, but she had The Force. That’s how it work, isn’t it?” Anakin scratched the back of his neck, and suddenly he was the one who was a bit embarrassed. “If you’re born from a force-sensitive parent, then you’re not a carrier? If the force-sensitive parent does the...impregnating...then you are a carrier? I’m actually pretty new to Jedi biology, I still don’t know if I’ve got it straight. My mother just told me I’d never bear children, and I was eight years old, so I didn’t exactly care at the time.”

Ahsoka nodded soberly. “That’s right. My mother was force-sensitive, my father was not. At least, that’s what I’ve been told.” Ahsoka’s eyes glazed over a little and she looked away from Anakin, who frowned at her words and swung his legs over the bar so he could sit atop it and face his padawan.

“You never knew your parents?” he asked softly, watching as Ahsoka sadly shook her head. It hit close to home, for reasons that he couldn’t share with Ahsoka. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear--all he could imagine was a small, faceless child with his mother’s hair, one who would never know him. _My father was a Jedi… I never knew him, though_. Anakin felt like throwing up.

“Only in glimpses. I was brought to The Temple when I was three years old,” Ahsoka crossed her arms over her chest and sighed a little wistfully. Not having a childhood, not knowing her parents, it was something she had long since made peace with, but having it dredged up was never exactly easy.

“Sometimes I wish I had been taken earlier. Or not at all.” Anakin admitted, sliding off of the rail and to his feet. “I was nine. Still too young to understand what I was leaving, but old enough to remember it for the rest of my life.”

Ahsoka didn’t know what to say, so she let out another soft breath. “...I’m sorry, Master.”

Anakin didn’t reply, but his greyish force signature lightly tapped her teal one, and that said more than words. They stood in commiserating silence for a minute or so, until Anakin broke it.

“So, what if two force-sensitive people have children, then? I don’t understand. Is their child a carrier or not?”

Ahsoka blinked. “I… uh… I think it’s a fifty-fifty chance then, Master.”

Anakin groaned in frustration and threw his hands up, pacing around for a few moments, then levitating one of the katas and throwing it at Ahsoka. He kept enough control that he could stop it from hitting her, but he didn’t have to. She caught it and threw it back, and he caught it easily. A simple enough training exercise, but it was enough to keep his hands busy and make him feel less jittery.

“Master… is there a reason we’re talking about this?” Ahsoka asked, her montrals twitching in confusion.

“No,” Anakin replied unconvincingly, flicking his wrist and tripping Ahsoka up a little bit, though she was still able to recover from it.

Despite Anakin’s response, it was only another few blows before he asked another question. “Would you ever do it?”

“Do what?” Ahsoka was panting a little now, finally putting exertion into the spar, as Anakin’s moves unconsciously grew more and more vicious the more intense the conversation got.

“Give up the Jedi Path. Have children with someone.” Anakin hadn’t broken a sweat yet.

“No.” Ahsoka replied and although Anakin had practically set her up to give that answer, it still felt like a blow to his gut to hear it. For emphasis, he slipped up his footwork, missed an incoming hit, and one of the katas hit him square in the chest.

“Master!”

Anakin waved off her concern, though his chest reverberated with an ache, and he flung the kata back at her halfheartedly. “Never?”

Ahsoka sighed and caught the kata in her hand, holding it and then lowering it to her side rather than lobbing it back. “No. Weren’t you listening to what I said? I’ve been at the Temple since I was three years old. I’ve never known what it feels like to have a family, I would have no idea how to start my own, and I think I’m okay with never trying. Besides, being a Jedi...well, it’s the only thing I can imagine myself doing. It’s what I was meant to be. But… I don’t hold it against those of us who choose a different path, Master. My mother, though I hardly knew her, I’m sure she had her reasons for never becoming a Jedi, for having me. Maybe that’s what she was meant to do, the same way I’m meant to be a Jedi Knight one day. There are many different paths, different destinies for everyone, are there not, Master?”

Anakin was staring at her as though she’d said something incredibly insightful rather than just saying an eloquent version of _to each their own_ and she rolled her eyes. “Do you have something to tell me, Master?” she asked boldly, sticking her chin out a little, “Or can we stop with the existentialism and do some saber work? You _promised_ , after all.”

Anakin rolled his eyes right back, but in the next second, he already had his saber wielded and poised to strike. “Slow, Snips. You’d already be dead if I were really trying…”

Ahsoka wasn’t far behind, getting her saber in hand within seconds. “Well then, I recommend you start trying, Master.” She quipped while easily deflecting one of Anakin’s blows.

He smirked and their well-matched quips were still lost to careful footwork and the electric crashes of their sabers.

The half-eaten fruit he’d left long-forgotten on the rail had already begun to wilt.

.

.

“Oops…”

“Oops? _Oops?_ ” Anakin hissed over his shoulder, lightsaber drawn and eyes still alert.

“Master, I--”

“You’re reckless as _hell_ , Snips, and that’s coming from me. _I’m_ reckless as hell. You never would have made it as Obi-Wan’s padawan. But you just might make it as mine. Now shut up and do exactly as I say.”

To fully understand the predicament that Anakin and Ahsoka were in, and why Anakin quickly Force probed her to _get to the generator_ as soon as she could, he would _hold off the droids_ , the past twelve hours needed to be revisited.

.

_12 hours prior…_

“Kenobi, Skywalker, Master Yoda has chosen your assignment,” Mace Windu told them, setting a datapad down in front of them. If he was aware of the awkward tension between them, the way they sat as far away as possible in their chairs, body language dripping with discomfort, torsos angled away from one another even as they skimmed the datapad (though their knees still practically knocked together if that could be taken as an indication of anything), then he made no indication of it.

“Christophsis,” Obi-Wan affirmed. Master Yoda had mentioned this mission to him over a week ago. There was a great deal hinging on Christophsis for the Republic forces at the moment, and Obi-Wan knew how serious this was. Any emotional and interpersonal turmoil was just going to have to take a backseat. Not only were Separatist fleets currently in control of the planet--placed in a strategic location in the galaxy and currently occupied by Senator Bail Organa, who was running a relief mission there. Separatist fleets had unexpectedly trapped him there, and it was Obi-Wan’s understanding that they needed to provide support to restart the relief mission, and conduct a safe extraction of the Senator from the planet. “Anakin and I are to lead Republic fleets in to fight back the Separatists, then extract Senator Organa, correct?”

Master Windu grimaced. “Not quite, Master Kenobi. Senator Organa is still in need of assistance, but he is all right for the time being and is not being placed as a priority for this mission. Kenobi, you will stay with the Republic fleets and lead them so that they may fight off the advances of the Separatist fleets. Anakin and his young padawan learner, Ahsoka, will sneak past the sensors and perform a rescue and extract mission of Rotta the Huttlet. Rotta is the Crime Lord Jabba the Hutt’s son, and he is currently being held hostage by Separatist General Whorm Loathsom. While the Council does _not_ condone the actions of Jabba, Master Yoda agrees that it would be wise of us to secure the Hutts as an ally to the Republic, lest the Separatists succeed in their bribery and use them against us. It’s not ideal, we know, but in times of war, we sacrifice the ideals we can and build ourselves up on those that we can’t.”

“Very poetic, Master Windu,” Anakin sassed, far less concerned with whether or not they were helping the Hutts--though he couldn’t deny a petty sense of anger, as he knew that the Hutts used slave labour and were active in the slave trade--and far more concerned with Master Windu suggesting that they take _Ahsoka_ . “But surely you aren’t suggesting that we take _Ahsoka_ on this mission--”

“Oh, we aren’t suggesting, _General_ Skywalker--these are your orders,” Master Windu shot back, levelling Anakin with a flat glare.

“Master Windu…” Obi-Wan was with Anakin on this one and he furrowed his brow. “Surely you know that I understand and appreciate the importance of a padawan’s comprehensive training, but this mission on Christophsis is of _utmost importance_ \--”

“Yes, it is. So I need not mention how important it is to successfully extract Rotta and drive back the Separatist fleets?”

Obi-Wan was gaping and Anakin was fuming. “Surely, at least, Anakin and I can infiltrate and rescue, while Ahsoka stays with the Republic fleets, I have no doubt that Rex would keep an eye on her--”

“ _A clone army general does not keep an eye on a Jedi_ ,” Master Windu replied harshly, and Obi-Wan almost cringed, “And no, your orders are clear and straight from Master Yoda. Ahsoka and Anakin will work the rescue mission. You will wait on the front lines, Obi-Wan.”

And that had pretty much been that. Nearly as soon as they got out of the meeting room, Anakin was blowing up. “ _This is a test_ , I know it is! This has nothing _to do_ with Ahsoka, this is test for me! _This is so unfair!_ ” Apparently their awkward terms and fight the week prior didn’t mean that Anakin wasn’t comfortable breaking down in front of him. “They’re seeing how well I’ll do with my padawan under pressure, _they want me to fail!_ ”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help smiling gently in exasperation. “They don’t _want you_ to fail, Anakin, that’s not the point of tests. And if you’ll remember, you went on some pretty important missions with me back in your beginner padawan days, and I don’t think we messed them up too badly, did we?”

At Obi-Wan’s reminiscent words, they made eye contact, and both froze, the Force flowing gently between them, stroking Anakin’s anger with soothing touches, compelling him with reason, and something a little more sentimental. Anakin just shook his head though. “That was _different_ ,” he insisted, and Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, sure that Anakin wouldn’t be able to come up with one single, solitary way in which it was.

“Anakin--” Obi-Wan reached for him with his Force and with his voice, and that’s all it took to break the connection.

Anakin quickly looked away and shielded his Force, turning on his heel so quickly that it was awkward. “I have to go ready Ahsoka for the mission. I’ll see you on the tarmac in two hours.” and then he had been off with a dramatic swish of his robes. Obi-Wan had reflexively let a hand fall to his stomach and he had replied, _yeah see you there_ , to an empty hallway.

.

Meeting on the tarmac hadn’t been any less awkward than their hallway departure had been. Obi-Wan was mid-conversation with Rex, going over battle strategies, which were quite possibly his least favourite thing to map out in the entire galaxy, when Anakin came striding out, a bouncy looking Ahsoka in tow. Obi-Wan saw the look in her eyes and he knew it well--she was trying to be strong and professional, but she was excited and anxious and above all else desperate to prove herself. Obi-Wan remembered seeing that same look in Anakin’s eyes not so long ago, and he had a sneaking suspicion that he had been guilty of that look as well, during his time as Qui-Gon’s apprentice. All he hoped was that Anakin realized how desperate Ahsoka would be to prove herself on this mission, and that he would provide her with the proper reassurances, if not for her sake, then for the mission’s sake. It wouldn’t do them well to have a nervous and spastic padawan attempting to rescue Rotta, so anything Anakin could do to temper her nerves would help.

However, all Obi-Wan felt were his own nerves flair up when Anakin finally reached them and barely even nodded his head in Obi-Wan’s direction.

“Hi, Master Kenobi!” Ahsoka was clearly oblivious to the state of affairs between them as she came to stand between them and greeted Obi-Wan enthusiastically.

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan greeted warmly in response, then after a moment, “First mission?”

He watched Ahsoka bristle and try and puff up a little in reponse. It was kind of endearing, and he would have smiled at Anakin if he were even willing to met his eye. Obi-Wan sighed inaudibly.

“Yes, technically speaking it is, but I swear on the Force Knight Kenobi, I am ready--”

“Yes, I have no doubts that you, Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan replied good-naturedly, “I was only going to say may the Force be with you.”

Ahsoka spluttered and blushed a little, shifting from ball to ball on her feet. “Thank you, Master Kenobi. May the force be with all of us today, we might need it.”

Obi-Wan smiled at her in return, then turned to Rex, who had been standing by dutifully while they talked. “Captain, you have met my former apprentice, General Anakin skywalker,”

“Of course,” Rex replied with a clean salute and a professional smile in Anakin’s direction, “It’s nice to see you again, General.”

Anakin returned the smile, then took over introductions. “It’s nice to see you, too, Captain, in spite of the dismal conditions we meet under. This is my padawan learner, Ahsoka Tano.” Anakin said with a small flourish of his hand in Ahsoka’s direction. She smiled, a little shyly, and waved, then realized that looked dumb and quickly brought her hand back down to her side.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you…”

“Ahsoka. It’s just Ahsoka,” Ahsoka replied with another small smile, eyes locking with Captain Rex’s for a few moments, until Obi-Wan spoke again.

“Are both of you clear on the plan?” Obi-Wan asked, partly because they _needed_ to make sure that they were on the same page, and also partly because he knew that it would get Anakin to talk to him.

“Yes,” Anakin replied, then nudged Ahsoka, prompting her to recite it.

“Wha--oh! Oh, yes. Master Kenobi, you will stay at the front lines and help Captain Rex’s fleet hold off the Separatists for as long as possible, as well as helping Master Skywalker and I to get past enemy defenses. We will do that by hiding inside of a box and moving through with the enemy’s tanks. Master Kenobi will keep the leaders preoccupied, to help us move quickly and inconspicuously. Once we are inside, we will locate Rotta and turn off the main generator, which will weaken the enemy’s shield and hopefully allow us to take down General Loathsom.” Ahsoka paused for a second, glancing around seeing nothing but neutral expressions. “That good?” she asked Rex, smiling and chewing intently on her bottom lip, a tell-tale sign of her nerves.

He smiled back, but shook head. “It sounds good to me, but Jedi strategies are not my area. I’m in charge of my fleet, and that’s all. I figure that I best leave all that behind-the-scenes planning to Jedis, it seems like you have it under control, anyway.”

Ahsoka smiled at the captain for a lingering moment, then faltered slightly and turned her gaze to Obi-Wan for his affirmation.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan affirmed, nodding and glancing at Anakin who was still going a little out of his way to avoid his gaze. “I will accompany you and Anakin until you make it safely past enemy lines, then the two of you are on your own.”

Ahsoka nodded exuberantly, and Anakin gave a curt nod, then pushed through them to board the ship. Ahsoka frowned. “Sorry,” she said to Obi-Wan and Rex, “He’s in one of his moods today.”

Obi-Wan smiled, and every inch of it was fake. _That certainly was one way to put it…_

He waited until Ahsoka boarded the ship, then sighed. Rex gave him a questioning look, but Obi-Wan just gave him a thin smile and clapped him on the shoulder before turning to board himself. It was going to be a long flight.

.

It took approximately fifteen minutes for everything to fall to shit, and honestly, with the state they were in, Obi-Wan was surprised it took that long.

It had all seemed okay at first, and foolishly, both Obi-Wan and Anakin thought that maybe the mission would be simpler than they initially thought. The Republic Fleets were standing up to the Separatist Fleets pretty well, and Captain Rex informed them that the droids had set up a deflector shield, after a Republic bombardment earlier. If Ahsoka and and Anakin could deactivate the shield once they were on the inside, it would be vitally important to the mission.

_Yeah, we can do that, no problem,_ Anakin had said, and Ahsoka had echoed _no problem_ , and maybe that should have been Obi-Wan’s first indication that everything was about to head south. He had been optimistic though--and he _knew_ Anakin was a good, if impulsive, Jedi--so he’d simply nodded and they had set about logistics to get past the tanks.

This was the next step that led to absolutely everything going wrong, though Obi-Wan could hardly know it at the time. They had been quickly strategizing from within a speeder, Anakin had been flying, while Obi-Wan shouted the occasional _Anakin, on your right!_ While pouring over a holo map of the planet and the Separatist base, while Ahsoka flew co-pilot. _Flying past their defenses will attract the attention of every droid on the field--_ Obi-Wan had said, frustrated by his and Anakin’s inevitable split-up, and he wasn’t sure whether he meant on the mission, or not.

_Who said anything about flying?_ Anakin had replied, and Obi-Wan’s brow had furrowed almost the instant that he heard those words. He could already tell that Anakin had a plan, and past experience told him that he wasn’t going to like it very much. But past experience also told him that it would more likely work than not, because Anakin could be an annoyingly effective strategist when he wanted to be. _Do you see those boxes?_ Anakin had gestured downward, to where some tanks were milling about, some going out to provide backup assistance to the droids who had their hands full with the Clone army, and some were heading back to base, where the generator for the shield was, and where they were assuming that Rotta was being held. The boxes were presumably loaded with equipment and droid parts that needed to be repaired, and there were probably about twenty-five currently headed back.

_Anakin--_

Obi-Wan hadn’t gotten his objection out before Anakin was already laying out the plan. _After I take out this speeder on my left, I’m going to let that one closing in on the right hit us. Before our ship goes down, we’re going to jump out. Master, comm Cody your coordinates now and tell him to move over here into position, stay on the ship with him, have him take you back to the frontlines. I’ll comm you when we’ve made it inside. Ahsoka and I are going to make a direct descent into that box positioned at 51 degrees by 39 degrees, moving into position… If we make it safely inside, we should be shielded from droid surveillance and will be able to ditch the tanks once we’re inside._

Ahsoka had looked a little wide-eyed from the window of their speeder, down to the boxes below. They weren’t _that_ high, and as far as aerial targets went, the boxes wouldn’t be the hardest to hit, but it wasn’t exactly ideal.

_Anakin--no--at least let me make sure you get past enemy lines first, then I’ll go back--_

_Master--no, there’s no time! There’s too many of them, this may be the only window of opportunity that Ahsoka and I get. Our fleet won’t be able to hold up if we can’t deactivate the shield--they need you up there. Just--just, don’t get in the middle of it, okay?_

Obi-Wan never got a chance to ask Anakin what exactly he meant by _the middle of it,_ because the way that Anakin had turned his seat to gaze back into Obi-Wan’s eyes had felt like more than just a throwaway _stay safe, stick to the mission_ , words never shared between them anyway. Anakin never told him to stay safe, if that’s what he was going for, and Obi-Wan’s lips parted slightly, but then a blast hit their ship and everything happened at once.

Anakin had gripped Ahsoka’s forearm and practically yanked her from the speeder, bracing himself and sending out a gentle wave of Force to cushion their landing when they hit a pile of metal parts hard. There would still be bruising and Ahsoka groaned in pain--Anakin reached a hand out to touch her shoulder. _Keep it down, and make sure to shield. I’ll let you know when to get out,_ Anakin had projected through their touch and Ahsoka had nodded, still rubbing at her side, montrals swishing slightly in pain.

Obi-Wan had barely been able to see Anakin and Ahsoka hit their mark, landing gracelessly in one of the boxes, before he himself had been hitting the ground rather abruptly. He had been about fifteen feet off when he realized that Commander Cody had missed his coordinates by a few marks, and there was no getting out of this without a fight. He had propelled his Force out around him and landed on his feet, hands immediately poised on his lightsaber. There were about thirty droids, and Obi-Wan glanced up to see if backup was there yet, but the ship had gotten tangled up in a fight with two enemy ships, so it looked like he was on his own.

The first few droids went down easy, and Obi-Wan moved through them almost effortlessly, until he had one moment of slow reflex, and he felt a droid in his blind spot just a moment too late. He turned, lightsaber poised, but it was too late. He got hit in the shoulder with a hot punch from a blaster--and when his knees locked, he realized it was on stun. _Alive_ , they wanted him _alive_. A harsh blow to the back of the head had his vision spotting, and the last thing he was aware of was metal arms hauling him up into the air, and then it was just a fade to black.

.

_Obi-Wan…_ **_Obi-Wan…_ **

_A--Ana--A…._

“They’ve got him,” Anakin said so suddenly, from where he was crouched down in the box, not two minutes after giving Ahsoka the strict silence rule, that she looked at him in blank confusion. “Obi-Wan, they’ve got Obi-Wan--I can _feel_ \--I don’t know where they’re taking him!”

Anakin had immediately felt a sense of panic and dread wash over him, like a cold wind, leaving him barely able to breathe. He always felt a similar sense of panic when something happened to Obi-Wan on missions; this was hardly the first time that Obi-Wan had been captured during a mission, but it never got any easier for him to handle. This time, it was even worse than usual, though, because of Obi-Wan’s… _condition._ Anakin didn’t know very much about it, or its side effects, could it _impair_ Obi-Wan? The thought made Anakin panic even more--was Obi-Wan even fit to be on missions? Apparently Master Yoda thought so, but Anakin wasn’t sure what kind of comfort that offered. Master Yoda was also the one that thought it would be a good idea to bring _Ahsoka,_ his _green padawan_ , on an important mission. Sometimes, despite knowing better, Anakin had to wonder if Master Yoda just did everything for his own amusement.

“ _Master--_ ” Ahsoka’s sharp whisper got his attention, and he glanced up at her, “I’m sure Master Kenobi will be fine. General Loathsom probably wants him for information, or for bribery, so I’m sure they’ll keep him alive… The faster we get the shield down and get Rotta--”

“We’ll go after Obi-Wan, then get Rotta,” Anakin said quickly and so authoritatively that Ahsoka lapsed into silence and didn’t object, even if she disagreed with him, then moved so he could peer out from behind the edge of the box and give a quick look around. “Be ready to move soon.”

Despite his mounting concern about Obi-Wan, Anakin managed to compartmentalize--that probably wasn’t quite the right word, it was more like numbing himself to the creeping fear that he felt, and channeling what was left into rage that he could fight with--and when he glanced back at Ahsoka, he gave her a curt nod to let her know that it was time to move. He let one hand latch on the edge of the box, and swung himself up and out in one fluid motion. He had the advantage of surprise, which gave him the few seconds headstart that he needed, and he managed to take down the nearby droids quietly and efficiently. He missed one, but Ahsoka was covering his back and swung her lightsaber, splitting it in half. She watched as it fell unceremoniously to the ground after an almost over-exaggerated explosion of sparks, then glanced up at Anakin who mouthed _good job Snips,_ then motioned for him to follow her down the corridor.

They walked quietly, light-footed and quick, both sending out seeking tendrils of the Force, trying to locate the largest energy source and hoping that it would bring them to the generator for the shield. Every step Anakin took, his mind ached with Obi-Wan, and it didn’t help that he could only feel the slightest pulse of his Force--he must have still been unconsciousness. He wasn’t projecting enough for Anakin to be able to successfully locate him, and he was frustrated--if he couldn’t pinpoint Obi-Wan’s exact location, he couldn’t justify the impromptu rescue mission, and he and Ahsoka would have to go after Rotta first. Which may have been the better bet all around, because if they turned up empty-handed, the Council would _not_ be pleased, it could set Ahsoka’s training back quite a bit. If they didn’t manage a successful extraction of Rotta, then there was no way that the Republic would get the alliance with the Hutts that they wanted, so even if they managed to liberate Christophsis, the Separatists would still hold the bigger win. Anakin could have pulled his hair out in frustration--this _never_ would have happened if he and Obi-Wan had just been allowed to do this together. This was what happened when they were split up--this was why they _couldn’t be split up_.

Before Anakin could mull over the ramifications of that in his mind--they _could not_ be split up--he and Ahsoka had both almost simultaneously felt a large expulsion of energy from nearby, and their eyes immediately met. It _had_ to be the generator. Well, it didn’t _have_ to be, but it was pretty likely. And the generator needed to be the first priority, as worried as he was about his former master. The sooner they got the shields down, the sooner he could focus on getting to Obi-Wan anyway.

_Ready, Snips?_ He sent over with a glance at Ahsoka.

_I’ve been ready all day!_ She sent back, Force still a little clumsy. She was definitely improving, though, and Anakin couldn’t help but offer her a fond smile, which was followed by a curt nod. Time to move.

Anakin picked up his pace, hands braced on the hilt of his lightsaber, sending out a Force probe before rounding the corner. The generator was, in fact, there, in the center of the room, pulsing a soft blue energy from around it, and surprisingly, maybe almost suspiciously, unguarded. While Anakin registered that the threat may not have seemed high to the Separatist army, he couldn’t imagine that they wouldn’t station even a _few_ droids around the generator, not when the shield was the main thing keeping Republic forces from bombarding them and retaking the planet. Anakin held his hand out, probing gently with the Force-- _something wasn’t right_ \--and he scrunched his face in concentration, trying to block out all the extra stimuli that threatened to distract him. There was a catch, he just couldn’t quite feel it out yet. _Ahsoka, don’t--_

He was too late--he didn’t catch the sensors, and he didn’t catch Ahsoka, before his over-eager padawan was running toward the generator, probing it with her Force and trying to figure out the easiest way to deactivate it.

Before Anakin could do _anything_ retail droids were spilling through the doors, and he kicked his lightsaber back on, taking a swing at the nearest one and huffing out a sigh of exasperation, a few strands of hair falling into his face. Ahsoka had unknowingly tripped off a sensor antenna on her way to the generator, which had apparently activated a swarm of _retail droids_ that they now had to deal with.

“Oops,” Ahsoka had offered weakly, wide eyed at the droids and hands immediately scrabbling for her lightsaber. She couldn’t believe that she’d missed the sensor antenna, if she’d just _looked down, how clumsy_ …

“Oops? _Oops?_ ” Anakin hissed over his shoulder, lightsaber drawn and eyes still alert. His voice was not quite scathing but nearing there, and he sliced through another droid with a violent shower of sparks.

“Master, I--” Ahsoka went to move up by his side, to help him fight off the droids, but he held up a hand and moved to block her, another crash as he deflected a blow from a blaster.

“You’re reckless as _hell,_ Snips, and that’s coming from me!” Anakin shouted back to her, taking a few steps back, then bringing his lightsaber down on the droid in front of him. “And that’s coming from me. _I’m_ reckless as hell. You never would have made it as Obi-Wan’s padawan. But you just might make it as mine. Now shut up and do exactly as I say.”

Ahsoka nodded hurriedly, and it took years of hard practice and self-control to stop the tears that threatened to form in her eyes at Anakin’s words. She hadn’t been oblivious to the fact that her master hadn’t been keen on taking her into his apprenticeship, and she had been even less oblivious to the fact that he didn’t want to take her on this mission. She wasn’t sure that it was personal, but anyone could tell that as much as Anakin had wanted to become a Jedi Master, he had never wanted to be a _padawan’s_ master. She hadn’t been thrilled, knowing that she would complete her apprenticeship under a master who didn’t even want her, but she had been trying to make the best of it. Anakin was impulsive, and a little irresponsible, but she felt as though she had been learning a lot under his tutelage. It wasn’t every padawan that got to train under _The Chosen One_ . He had pushed her combat skills further than they’d ever been pushed before, and though Anakin’s relationship with the Force may have been... _unconventional_ , it was true and deep and there was no denying that. He had helped her to feel the Force in herself more strongly, and helped her see the Force in things around her, things she had never noticed before. This mission, well, it had been a chance to prove herself to her master, and while she didn’t expect him to suddenly warm to the idea of having an apprentice, she thought that she could at least make him proud, or prove that she was in it wholeheartedly, for the long haul, good or bad. Getting the small reassurement she had just gotten, even after messing up and looking a fool, soothed her worries some, and she squared her shoulders and obediently awaited instructions from Anakin.

_Get to the generator,_ Anakin sent her quickly, as he was surrounded by four retail droids, _I’ll hold off the droids_.

Ahsoka didn’t make him tell her twice, and re-sheathed her lightsaber and rushed over to the generator. She held her hand out and felt the pulsating energy, feeling overwhelmed for a second or two, before she took a deep breath to power through. Okay, she had to get this generator switched off, had to make sure her master didn’t get completely swarmed by droids, had to get it all done quick, before the retail droids sent for reinforcements and they were completely overtaken like Knight Kenobi presumably had been. _Shut down the generator--shut the generator down--_ Ahsoka gave a hopeless glance over to Anakin, who was still valiantly fighting off the droids, but he wouldn’t be able to hold them back forever, and every second that passed it became more and more likely that the entire base would be alerted to their presence. _Think, Ahsoka, think--!_ She nearly jumped when it occurred to her that all she needed to do was place charges around the generator--right, that should do the trick if it was wired the way that she thought it was. If not, well… she’d just try to tear her lightsaber through it a few times.

She moved as quickly as she could, placing the charges strategically, but just a little haphazardly in distances apart, and she was placing next to the last one when she felt a presence behind her--something Anakin had always strongly emphasised her keeping a Force feel for, it automatically gave Jedi an eye in their blind spot--and she had to drop the charge and turn around to face the retail droid that was right behind her. She managed to get her lightsaber up in time and swung it down, slicing the droid in half, watching it crash to the floor. The adrenaline spiking hot in her veins kept her from noticing the nearby sensor antennas until it was too late. Her hand shot out quickly in a last ditch attempt to stop it from hitting the ground, but she was too late. The disabled droid landed atop a sensor antenna and Ahsoka swore beneath her breath. _Kriff_. Her master was going to kill her.

She shot a look up at Anakin, but he was distracted by the fresh hoard of retail droids that had been activated by the sensor antenna. He’d been caught off guard by these droids, and it had given them the upperhand. He couldn’t find off all of them on his own, skilled as he was, there were just too many. Ahsoka gave a quick glance to the generator--she just had _two_ more charges to put in place--then back at Anakin, then back again, then back one more time. If she joined in the fighting, who knew if she’d be able to get back to the generator in time.

Eyes darting around, wide and a little overwhelmed, they finally landed on the wall nearest to the droids. Ahsoka glanced back to Anakin, then back to the wall, and sucked in a deep breath. It was now or never. She still wasn’t as practiced with the Force as she needed to be, but if there had ever been a time to channel all of Anakin’s teachings and _feel_ her Force, it was now. _Master, to the left now!_

For a second, she wasn’t even sure Anakin would be able to hear her-- _feel_ her, but then he quickly sidestepped left and it really _was_ now or never. She outstretched her hand and channelled all her Force energy, then blasted it toward the wall. To her immense relief and hammering heart, the wall immediately crumbled and came crashing down on the hoard of droids closing in on her master, crushing them, and leaving no one but her and Anakin in the room. Anakin stared down at the rubble, then snapped his eyes up to her. Immediately, she began to babble.

“Master, I’m sorry, about the sensor antenna, I didn’t--”

“Good thinking, Snips,” Anakin said, gesturing down to the pile of rubble and crushed metal at his feet, before he ran over to join her at the generator. “And good Force, I could feel it. Now let’s get this generator down--what are you waiting for? We don’t have all day!” And with that, Anakin knocked against her shoulder then took her place doing the charges.

Ahsoka didn’t say anything and merely moved after him, but if there was a small little warm smile on her face from the pleasant interaction between them well, nobody would notice.

.

“Wake up, General.”

Of all the ways that Obi-Wan had woken up in his lifetime, this was not one of the most pleasant ways. (No, the best ways were always when he woke up with his cock in Anakin’s mouth...or maybe when he woke up to Anakin still asleep and draped across his chest, hair just slightly tickling his nose... _entirely inappropriate_ , those thoughts were inappropriate, he thought in his still fuzzy mind.)

A sharp pain shot through his cheekbone and back through his head, as he was roughly slapped across the face once, twice--he cracked an eye open and was roughly slapped again.

As he started to come to more and blinked, he realized there was a hand roughly tangle in his hair, holding his head upright--a droid undoubtedly from how cold the grip felt against his scalp--and there was a large Kerkoiden in front of him, who had given him the not-so-nice wake-up call.

“ _General Whorm Loathsom_ ,” Obi-Wan slurred, moving one hand up to rub at his jaw when he realized that his hands weren’t bound. He was seated in a chair, and he glanced down, wincing as it tugged on the hair clutched in the droid’s grip, to realize that he’d been stripped of his robe and belt, meaning he had no lightsaber or comm. A quick scan of the control room told him nothing of their location, and his attempt at sending a Force probe out was cut short when the general backhanded him across the face again with one of his large paw-like hands.

“ _General_ Obi-Wan Kenobi,” General Loathsom replied in a deep, gravelly voice, appraising Obi-Wan’s condition then waving the droid away with the casual flap of a hand. Obi-Wan nearly audibly  sighed when the droid released the tight grip on his hair and moved back a few steps. “I anticipated dealing with Captain Rex today, so _imagine my surprise_ when my droid army brought you to me.”

“Glad I can still surprise someone. My padawan has called me predictable one too many times,” Obi-Wan said dryly, not bothering to add the truth-- _though, I might have surprised him recently, too_.

General Loathsom laughed, and it was an insincere sound, as he crossed large arms over his chest and looked down at Obi-Wan. “You know what happens next, General?”

Obi-Wan blinked up, appraising behind his neutral blue eyes. Until he could figure out an escape plan--his lightsaber had been placed too far away for him to call it, so he had to give General Loathsom that, he wasn’t a _complete_ idiot--or someone came from him, the safest bet was too stall for time. Granted, he was the only Force sensitive individual in the room, which gave him the upperhand, but not much of one without a lightsaber. There was only so much he could do against over fifteen droids and a fearsome Kerkoiden. “I surrender to you, on behalf of the Republic, and the remainder of our fleet returns to Coruscant empty handed?” Obi-Wan suggested, and this time General Loathsom full-on laughed.

“Yes, General. That _is_ what will happen next, so my only question is _how_ will this surrender be given? With the wave of a white flag or… _forcefully?_ ”

Obi-Wan squared his shoulders and drew himself up. General Loathsom allowed him to stand, though he kept droids stationed closely and looked down at him in scrutiny. “General. I believe that my surrender should be given reasonably and diplomatically… _general to general_ .” Obi-Wan said, voice dripping with the same authority he would don if he were speaking in the Council. Buying for time was imperative. He wasn’t sure that Anakin and Ahsoka hadn’t been able to dismantle the shield, but considering how confident General Loathsom seemed, not only externally but internally as well if his energy was any indication, he had to assume that they either had not been able to destroy the energy source yet, or they had and General Loathsom didn’t know. Either way, stalling was the best way to ensure Anakin and Ahsoka, as well as Captain Rex and the fleet, the best chance possible to have a successful mission. It was time to put his, arguably best, skillset to use. _Diplomacy_. “Shall we sit down and discuss the terms of my surrender, General?” Obi-Wan asked, voice straight-forward and never wavering, though his cheekbone was still faintly stinging, and his Force was still reached out toward Anakin. He couldn’t tell where Anakin was, or what kind of condition he was in, but he could tell that he was still alive and not in any critical condition, and for the time being, that was enough to ease his mind.

General Loathsom squinted at him, making a heavy noise of appraisal, and the delay before his response was so long, that Obi-Wan almost worried he would say no immediately, and put a crimp in Obi-Wan’s plan to stall. However, finally, the Kerkoiden nodded, and moved out of Obi-Wan’s way, gesturing for him to sit at a table that had a few datapads and spare parts laid on it. “It would be my pleasure, General,” General Loathsom replied, waving a hand to indicate to a nearby droid that it should clear off the table. One droid cleared off the table, moving the datapads away to another nearby table, while another pulled out one of the chairs for Obi-Wan. “Could we get two cups of tea?” General Loathsom asked another droid, who made an affirmative whirring noise, then sped off.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. Tea? Maybe General Loathsom knew how to play the game of diplomacy as well. Either way, he was relieved. It would be easier to stall if the general was willing to play along. One player games always were the hardest to play.

“What? No point negotiating on a completely empty stomach, is there?’ General Loathsom asked at Obi-Wan’s obvious surprise, and Obi-Wan shook his head in agreement.

“I rather think I could benefit from a cup of tea. If my circadian rhythm serves, this is around the time I would usually have a cup of tea anyway.”

Maybe luck really was on their side, Obi-Wan thought, because General Loathsom didn’t even try to begin discussions about the impending _surrender_ , until a droid brought their tea over to them in two small metal cups. Obi-Wan put his nose in the cup and inhaled gently, humming appraisingly at the crisp smell, though he could just faintly detect flowery notes, and he took a small sip. “Very nice,” Obi-Wan complimented, and this, the absurdity, the wit, the pointlessness of it all, this was why he loved diplomacy. Useless as it may have been, it still felt a lot more productive than just firing a blaster at anything that moved, fake diplomacy be this as it may. He would suggest diplomatic meeting with the Separatists, but the Republic had already tried those. The Separatists could _not_ be reasoned with. They wouldn’t give up until they had razed the galaxy, and as much as Obi-Wan hated war, he loved peace more. He couldn’t stand by and watch that happen, watch the Separatists win.

And in eight months, he might have to do just that…

The intrusive thought made him grimace, and he had to grit his teeth and take another sip of too-hot tea to hide his slip-up.

“So, your surrender general,” General Loathsom said, after taking a long drink of his tea, obviously not minding the hotness like Obi-Wan did. A power play?

“I suppose you are going to request a complete withdrawal of my fleet,” Obi-Wan replied, taking a larger drink of his tea and ignoring the way that it made his tongue ache sharply.

“Of course. That is what your surrender will entail. You will take your men away from Christophsis and will we gain permanent control of the planet.” General Loathsom nodded, setting his nearly-empty cup down and leaning back in his chair.

“I believe I can accommodate that condition, General, but might I add one of my own?” Obi-Wan said after faking slow, careful thought about the condition.

General Loathsom laughed again, but nodded. “What conditions do you have, General?”

“We will leave Christophsis, and we will not make another attempt to recapture the planet--this can be a Separatist base. But I would request that Senator Bail Organa is allowed to freely leave--on the agreement that he suspends his relief mission indefinitely--and I would request the extradition of Rotta the Hutlett, a current prisoner of yours.”

This time when General Loathsom laughed, it didn’t sound fake in the slightest bit. It was raucous, hearty, and cruel. “Give up our two vantage points over the Republic? Crazy talk, General Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan’s mouth straightened into a line. Start off with laughs and light talk, then move into a more serious bout of argument--the stalling seemed to be going according to plan, and Obi-Wan carefully considered for a moment or two before replying. “Fine. Let us take Rotta the Hutlett back with us.”

General Loathsom scoffed, and sipped down the rest of his tea. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Kenobi,” he growled, a frown spreading across his face. “If you get Rotta from us, you can win the loyalty of the Hutts and enter into an alliance with them, making yourself even stronger and us weaker.”

Now it was Obi-Wan’s turn to scoff. “The Hutts have no loyalty. Even if we are to return Rotta to Jabba, it will win us no _alliance_ with the Hutts. They could be back on your side as soon as tomorrow.”

“You expect me to believe that?” General Loathsom shot back, glowering across the table at Obi-Wan.

“We--”

“ _You_ have no ground to negotiate on, General Kenobi! You have no power in this negotiate--your _fleet_ is losing, we have you _held_ , and we now have Senator Organa and _you_ as bargaining chips against the _Republic_ , Rotta as a bargaining chip with the _Hutts_ \--you have _nothing_ . _Nothing,_ Kenobi, so here’s how it’s going to go--you are going to call your fleet immediately and order them down. Your surrender will be effective immediately, and your fleet will _leave_ , you will _stay_ , and Christophsis will be _ours_.”

“ _All right._ Why don’t we just talk about a few other terms--” Obi-Wan firmly tried to regain control of the situation, but it was too late, it had already spiralled from his control and when he tried to grasp at it, it only slipped through his fingers.

“You think I don’t know what you’re _doing,_ Kenobi?”

“An alliance with the Hutts--”

“ _Stalling, Kenobi,_ you think I don’t know that you’re stalling?” General Loathsom rose to his feet then, slamming his hands down on the table, and Obi-Wan forced himself to sit still instead of backing up or jumping from his seat, “Stalling for time for your precious fleet? Well, you can stall _all day_ if you want, General--they’re never going to get past our Shield--!”

“Well, you are wrong about two things. Number one, our fleet just did get past your shield, or what _used to be_ your shield rather, and I do believe you’re outnumbered, General,”

General Loathsom looked at Obi-Wan, who looked just as surprised as he felt, then snapped his attention upward, to see a lanky Jedi leaning against the doorframe, hand braced against a lightsaber hidden in the folds of his black tunic.

_Anakin._

Obi-Wan turned, and his former padawan offered him the flash of a smile, before turning his gaze to General Loathsom. “And number two, he doesn’t have nothing. He _never_ has nothing. Because he’s always got me.”

The words hit Obi-Wan square in the chest, and if he were a weaker man, he might have cried. Instead, he just sent a wave of affection through his Force signature straight for Anakin--their bad terms be damned. All Anakin did was smile, then said, “Master, _catch_ ,” and tossed his lightsaber in his general direction. Obi-Wan held up his hand and his lightsaber flew into it. He glanced down at it in amazement, but there was no time to wonder _how_ Anakin had gotten it, because a Separatist officer was rushing into the room then, a little flushed, anxiety rolling off them in thick waves.

“General--General Loathsom, something happened, the generator’s down, the _shield’s down_ , the Republic fleet is closing in--”

General Loathsom curled his fists and snarled, making a quick, impulsive move for Obi-Wan, but Obi-Wan was quicker and was able to take him down holding his lightsaber up to his neck warningly, until the general finally went limp. Anakin had quickly taken down the droids in the room, and debilitated the officer who had rushed in, then glanced out the window of the room. “Master, I think that the proverbial horns are sounding--for a Republic victory,” Anakin said, and this just might have been the most he had talked to Obi-Wan in a week. Cruelly ironic that missions, the very thing Obi-Wan had to give up soon, were what seemed able to bring them back together.

_Always together._

“Let’s see,” Obi-Wan said, and no one could miss the trace of smugness in his voice, “A Separatist _general_ as our captive, a Republic battlefield victory, regaining Christophsis--I’d say that we have a little more than _nothing_ , would you not General Loathsom?”

General Loathsom growled, and Obi-Wan simply tightened his grip in response. “Anakin,” Obi-Wan turned, keeping his lightsaber held firmly in place and the Force bonds he was propelling out tight as well. “We need to find Rotta, then--”

“No need, Master Kenobi,”

Heads turned, and this time there was a Togruta in the doorway, and General Loathsom would have thrown his hands up in the air in exasperation if they weren’t being held fast by Obi-Wan.

Ahsoka was standing in the doorway, Anakin was full on grinning by that point, holding a rather small Hutlett in her arms. It was resting on her hip, coddled in what looked like a makeshift wrap made from a cloak. “Rotta is pretty sick, from mistreatment and abuse, no doubt suffered at the hands of _Separatist officials_ ,” Ahsoka levelled General Loathsom with a glare, then continued, “But if we get him to med-bay quickly, he should be fine.”

Obi-Wan nodded, straightening up. They could always celebrate their victory later--gloating was _hardly_ appropriate for Jedi--but for now, there was still work to be done. They needed to properly apprehend General Loathsom, Obi-Wan needed to get a full report from Rex, and they needed to get Rotta medical care immediately and send dispatch to Jabba. “I’ll escort the general back to our ship, and we can discuss _terms_ of his surrender, there,” Obi-Wan said, prodding General Loathsom firmly to get him to move. “Anakin, Ahsoka, make sure that you get Rotta all the proper medical care he needs, and report to Captain Rex if necessary. I will see both of you back at the Temple.”

Anakin nodded, then watched Obi-Wan leave. _He’s always got me._ Anakin’s teeth found his bottom lip and he worried it, before looking down at his shoes and scuffing them slightly against the floor.

“Master, we should get going--”

“Yeah, yeah,” Anakin waved Ahsoka off, clapping her on the shoulder then leading her out of the control room. “I stand by what I said earlier, Snips. _No way_ you would have ever made it as Obi-Wan’s padawan.” Anakin took a glance at the weak Hutlett in Ahsoka’s arms. “But I think you’ll make it just fine as mine. Now come on, _my young apprentice_ , it’s your first victory against the Separatists. I think this calls for a beer.”

Ahsoka wouldn’t have argued, even if she had wanted to.

.

“Successful mission it was?”

Obi-Wan nodded, as he walked alongside of Master Yoda in one of the grand halls. “I’d say so, it was as successful of a mission as we could have hoped for,” Obi-Wan replied, “We have apprehended a Separatist general, regained control of Christophsis, and I believe that Master Windu is returning Rotta and working a negotiation with the Hutts as we speak, and he took Senator Amidala with him, so I’d say the chances of success are in our favour. Senator Organa opted to stay on Christophsis, now that it is no longer under Separatist control, and continue with his relief mission, as the peoples of Christophsis are still in much need of aid, due to treatment under Separatist underthrow.” Obi-Wan smoothed a hand over the front of his robe, slightly self-consciously. He hadn’t began to show yet, but he still felt like he couldn’t pile enough clothes on. Besides, if he started to heavily layer now, it wouldn’t look as suspicious later, when he was showing.

He and Yoda had just come from a meeting at the Senate Building, in which they had informed Chancellor Palpatine of the Separatist victory. He had seemed pleased enough, but in that distant, aloof way that Obi-Wan always found unnerving. He had asked about Anakin, why _Anakin_ wasn’t there to debrief him, and Obi-Wan had felt something in his stomach twist. _Jealousy_ , _unease--he’s not your padawan, he’s mine._ Obi-Wan knew that the Chancellor filled an important father figure role to Anakin--one that he himself had failed to fill, when he had realized that he liked the way that Anakin sounded when he was out of breath, liked the way that his cheeks flushed when Obi-Wan gave him a hard time, liked the way that he trembled when he felt Obi-Wan’s breath on his neck, Obi-Wan couldn’t be his father figure--and he tried, _really tried,_ to give Palpatine the benefit of the doubt, which was really saying something considering how much the rest of the Council disliked him, thought he _overstepped._ And he did overstep, and Obi-Wan doubted that he wasn’t just a little power hungry, but he was a source of support for Anakin, so Obi-Wan tried. _Anakin is busy preparing for the beading ceremony. His padawan, Ahsoka, earned a new bead by completing this mission._ Obi-Wan had replied politely to the Chancellor’s inquiry, and he had watched Palpatine’s thin lips stretch in a sickly smile. The Council did not like Palpatine, but Obi-Wan was becoming more and more certain that Palpatine did not like Jedi any more than they liked him. Every time Jedi affairs were brought up to him, Obi-Wan didn’t miss his vague disdain, no matter how deep he buried it in those dead eyes of his.

Yoda mused lightly at Obi-Wan’s opinion, and didn’t respond immediately. They were headed to the beading ceremony now; they would have the ceremony, then they would have a debrief with all members of the High Council, which Ahsoka would be allowed to sit in on, so long as Anakin was present, as an honorary for her good work on Christophsis. Obi-Wan remembered Anakin’s first beading ceremony, how he had felt watching Anakin receive the bead from Master Yoda. _Today, with the High Council as witness, we present padawan learner Anakin Skywalker, who under the apprenticeship of his Jedi Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, has shown great valour, and progress in his training. With a blessing from the force, we will bestow this bead to apprentice Skywalker, to serve a constant reminder of his training, and to provide him with strength during the Trials, when that time comes._ Obi-Wan remembered that he had been completely emotionally unaffected when he had entered the meeting room, but as soon as Anakin had kneeled in front of Master Yoda, he had gotten stupidly teary eyed. It was like someone had reached into his chest and seized his heart--he had been flooded with so much _stupid_ pride, and eleven-year-old Anakin was nowhere as emotionally effected as he was, and Obi-Wan now understood maybe what his own master had felt all those years, watching him earn his beads. Obi-Wan had dabbed at his eyes with the sleeves of his robe and gone forward when Master Yoda had beckoned him, and taken the bead into the palm of his hand, kneeling to face Anakin. _Anakin, with the High Council as my witness, I swear on my own Force, responsibility for you as my padawan learner, and, in part, present this bead to you as proof of the progress you’ve made under my apprenticeship. May the Force be with you, today, tomorrow, and in all that you ever do._ Anakin had probably never understood why Obi-Wan had looked at him with an emotional glaze in his eyes for the rest of the night, but maybe today, after bestowing Ahsoka’s first bead upon her, he would finally understand.

“And how did the Young Master Skywalker fair?” Yoda asked finally, and Obi-Wan blinked. Even though Anakin was no longer his padawan, technically, everyone still treated him as such. He vaguely wondered if it stemmed from distrust of Anakin, or just Obi-Wan’s still overprotective behaviour where the young Jedi was concerned.

“Anakin did well on this mission, as did Ahsoka. I believe that she made him proud. He may turn out to be quite the Jedi Master yet,” Obi-Wan mused, and he tried to ignore the dull ache of his heart, that so many years before had rejected the thought of becoming a Jedi Master himself. Maybe history really did repeat itself. _Or maybe it just ran in the family,_ Obi-Wan thought in bitter humour, and had to wonder if perhaps Qui-Gon had secretly resented taking a padawan as well, because then they were really just completing the trifecta.

“Ahsoka may temper the wild ways of young Master Skywalker, think you may?” Yoda asked, and of course, his voice hardly betrayed his own opinion.

Still, Obi-Wan nodded, humming a soft assent. “I think so. Having a padawan can temper even the most unruly of us.” Obi-Wan admitted with a knowing grin and Master Yoda shook his head, ears twitching a little.

“Headstrong, you may have been, Obi-Wan, unruly, no,” Yoda reassured him, and Obi-Wan just smiled back. “Something else altogether is Anakin Skywalker.”

Obi-Wan’s features darkened just slightly. “I think that Ahsoka will be good for Anakin. She’s what he needs. He’ll need someone to keep him straight...once I’m gone. And after our meeting with the Chancellor, I’m afraid that I’m convinced, now more than ever, that we cannot trust Chancellor Palpatine to be that person.”

“Right about one thing you are, Obi-Wan,” Master Yoda replied. He never did tell Obi-Wan what that one thing was, and they slipped inside of the Council meeting room to begin the beading ceremony.

.

“You think I’d just abandon you?”

Obi-Wan looked up and blinked.

He was sitting in the conference room, not feeling inclined to move even after the meeting had dismissed. Everyone else had bustled out in a mass of robes and relaxed Force signatures, and had overlooked Obi-Wan dismally staying put in his chair. He had wanted nothing more than to retire to his quarters for the evening for hours now, and now that he finally had the chance, he didn’t even want to move. He thought he might’ve stayed there, gazing out at the hubbub of the city all night if uninterrupted.

It had been a rush when they had arrived back on Coruscant, first a rush to medbay in order to have a few wounds sealed. He and Anakin had gone together, but there had been nothing more than a few exchanged glances, a couple _don’t forget to show them the burn on your shoulder_ or _mention that you might’ve sprained your wrist_ , before they’d both been whisked off to attend to meetings, give reports, and debriefs, when really, neither of them wanted to do anything but fall into bed, or at least meditate, since there had been no chance to do either of those things during mission time. However, meetings could never seem to wait, so as soon as Obi-Wan had gotten a few bacta patches and Anakin had gotten his wrist realigned, they were off to the meeting room. Ahsoka was there, too, her first real debrief, and Obi-Wan didn’t miss the proud, albeit tired, glances that Anakin sent her way throughout the meeting. She wore her new bead proudly--Obi-Wan had been right in thinking that Anakin would become emotionally affected by the beading ceremony, he had seen the telltale sheen of tears in his once-apprentice’s eyes--and sat obediently and quietly at Anakin’s side, only speaking when addressed directly over details about the mission. It made his chest ache, with a tired pride of his own, but also a pain that he was growing accustomed to.

When the meeting finally came to an end, Obi-Wan had vaguely noticed Anakin rise with the rest of the room at the close of their meeting, but he had refused to watch him leave, and instead kept his gaze at the window. The room had lapsed into silence for a little over thirty seconds and Obi-Wan had been sure that everyone had left, so he was reasonably startled when Anakin’s voice crashed through the silence, amused and a little accusatory.

He turned to see Anakin leaning up against the doorway and staring at him, something almost close to a smile on his face. The moons and city lights were streaming through the window and they bathed Anakin in a soft light. He was in need of a more proper bath than the quick clean-up they’d done earlier, but his hair was still curling and framing his face attractively. He looked soft, pretty. He also looked vaguely amused, as if the thought was so ridiculous that all it deserved was laughter, but Obi-Wan could feel anger and passion ebbing away at his smile.

“You think that I’d let you exile yourself away, with _our_ child while I just carried on? While I took your seat on the Jedi Council and became a _Very Great_ Jedi Knight? That’s what you thought I’d _choose_ , Master?”

Obi-Wan grit his teeth and shook his head, but not in response to Anakin’s rhetorical questions. He slowly rose to his feet, keeping his arms in front of him and hands tucked into the sleeves of his robe as he walked toward Anakin until they met in the middle of the room. “You are a great Jedi, Anakin. You are the _Chosen One_. I would never ask you to give that up, no matter what you did.”

Anakin scoffed again, but this time he closed the distance between them, and let one of his hands brace against the side of Obi-Wan’s face. “See, the thing is Master, you don’t have to.” his voice quivered with passion, and Obi-Wan could feel his own eyes glaze over. “You don’t have to ask. I would throw away my lightsaber and leave right now, if that’s what I needed to do.”

“Anakin, please,” Obi-Wan leaned into Anakin’s touch and let his eyes slip shut for a moment.

“I would never turn my back on my family, Master. Not now, not ever. Never again. I turned my back on my family once and it haunts me. I will never turn away again. I would never _leave you_ , Obi-Wan. If you are going to be exiled from the Jedi Order, then I’m going to be the one packing our bags. If you are going to devote the rest of your life to _boring domesticity_ , then I’ll cook dinner every night and make fresh caf every morning. If you think there’s anywhere you could go in the entire galaxy that I wouldn’t follow you, then you’re _delusional_ , Master, and the hormones are clearly getting to you.”

“Anakin…”

“It’s a choice, right? Every Jedi has the choice--follow the Jedi Code or don’t be a Jedi.”

“That’s not exactly what I said, Anakin--”

“Well, that’s it then. I’m choosing you, Master. I would always choose you. In every galaxy, every possible scenario of us--at every fork in the road, I will always choose you. So, really, the question is not whether I’m going to _proudly_ tell the Jedi Council that this is mine,” Anakin let one hand slide down to rest on Obi-Wan’s slightly swollen stomach, “but _when_. Because if you think that I’m not going to stick around to father my own children, then think again. The Jedi training you have given me has been the best that anyone could have possibly given me, but this is even better than that.”

With that, Obi-Wan couldn’t stay strong anymore. He collapsed in Anakin’s arms, twining his arms around Anakin’s waist and burying his face in the crook of Anakin’s neck. Anakin reciprocated, letting his arms drape over Obi-Wan’s shoulders and pulling him closer, turning his face so he could press soft lips to the side of Obi-Wan’s face. Anakin couldn’t help but smile, still vaguely amused somehow, or maybe he was just giddy at their reconciliation.

“So I’ve been thinking, Master… Shmi Kenobi-Skywalker?”

Obi-Wan did not reply immediately but Anakin could feel him tense in his arms.

Anakin’s smile grew tenfold. “Or maybe Yoda Kenobi-Skywalker?”

He could feel all the built-up tension leave Obi-Wan’s body and he continued smiling as he nuzzled the side of Obi-Wan’s head. “Ha, ha. Your sense of humor is unparalleled, my young padawan.”

“Aww, c’mon, Master. I had you worried for a second there,”

Obi-Wan pulled back enough that he could steal a quick kiss, rolling his eyes when Anakin’s hand moved to grip the back of his head and hold him in place for an additional thirty seconds.

“If you wanted to name our child after your mother, Anakin, low be it for me to stop you.” Obi-Wan gently stroked the small of Anakin’s back, and watched as Anakin shook his head, hair gently flopping with the motion.

“I will always love my mother, unconditionally, and I will wish that she could be here to meet her grandchild every day for the rest of my life. But even I know that’s a _terrible_ name.”

Obi-Wan chuckled, and Anakin kissed him again. He didn’t fight it, letting his arms slide up Anakin’s back and loop around his neck instead, fingers idly toying with the ends of Anakin’s hair. “I’m sure between the two of us,” Obi-Wan spoke, and it still felt so tentative, part of him still wanted to shout out at Anakin, to tell him to get out now before it was too late, “We can figure something out.”

“Of course we can. We’re _The_ Team, Master. Kenobi and Skywalker. We can figure anything out. And we’ve got like, six months to figure it out, right?”

Obi-Wan nodded, and he let Anakin pull him in close for a hug again. He thought that he might have hated Anakin a little bit if he had agreed to forsake Obi-Wan and their child. But it didn’t hold a torch to how much he hated himself, for allowing Anakin to forsake himself.

“I love you, Master.” Anakin murmured, stroking the back of Obi-Wan’s hair gently, and inhaling deeply.

“I know, Anakin. I love you, too.”

That was the problem. He loved Anakin so much that he was willing to go down for him, but Anakin loved him so much that he would tie himself to a sinking ship if it meant they would go down together.

But when Anakin smiled at him like that, when he sent a gentle, affectionate Force probe to his stomach, when he joked about baby names… It almost didn’t feel like a shipwreck. And out of everything that made Obi-Wan hate himself, that might’ve made it to the top of the list.

.

.

“Oh my, _oh force_ , _Ana-_ kin--!”

Anakin was situated comfortably between his thighs, and the smug expression on his face when he pulled back, bottom half of his face slick with fluids and pupils blown wide with arousal, Obi-Wan had half a mind to kick him in the face and refuse to admit that he looked entirely sexy. After all, Anakin’s ego hardly needed the boost it was undoubtedly getting from this, and Obi-Wan scowled down at him. However, his sour expression hardly held weight as his thighs were trembling and his breath was coming in short, desperate pants, not to mention the fact that he was leaking so badly, a mixture of natural lubricant and Anakin’s saliva pooling on the sheets.

_Let me eat you out_ , Anakin had muttered while they had been making out. Anakin had never done that to him and Obi-Wan had blushed instantly at the thought, but he never really could deny Anakin anything. That fact coupled with his raging libido, he had never stood a chance. He’d nodded his consent, and then promptly covered his face when Anakin aggressively pushed his legs apart and spread him wide. He’d sighed and Anakin had laughed, then impulsively buried his face in Obi-Wan’s ass, and Obi-Wan had pretty much been gone ever since then.

Anakin ate him out with as much passion and determination as he did everything out, and Obi-Wan’s face was blotched with red, his hands fisted the sheets next to him as he squirmed. Pre-cum as leaking from his cock and getting in Anakin’s hair, but the young Jedi didn’t seem deterred by it. He kept his eyes closed for the most part as he licked Obi-Wan fervently, occasionally letting his eyelids flutter and a sultry gaze travel upward. When they made eye contact, Obi-Wan’s cock twitched and he made a soft whimpering noise that he knew Anakin would tease him about later.

“Master, hold yourself open for me,” Anakin chided lightly, lightly swiping his tongue against the surface of Obi-Wan’s entrance, prodding gently and teasing him with the slightest breach, “I want all the way inside.”

Obi-Wan whined erotically at that and turned his head, pressing the side of his face against his pillow. He weakly tried to spread his legs wider for Anakin, still a little shy about how _open_ he was, but all of a sudden he was being manhandled and he yelped. Anakin had quickly lost patience and had firmly grasped his thighs and pulled them apart as far as they would go.

“I swear on the Force, I have to do _everything_ myself,” Anakin was teasing, as he held Obi-Wan’s legs up firmly, iron grip locked so that his legs were suspended in the air and his hips were virtually held in place. All he could really do was wiggle around from the waist up, which would do nothing to deter Anakin from his task at hand. He was open wide, he could feel the cool air against his most private parts, cold against his slick innards, and it made him feel entirely vulnerable. In a flash, the cool air was replaced by moist warmth from Anakin’s hot mouth, and the hot tongue lapping at his hole made his toes curl. Anakin sucked at his entrance gently and Obi-Wan panted, trying to grind his hips down against Anakin’s face, but inhibited by the limited mobility of his hips. Anakin chuckled and pressed his tongue a little harder against the first ring of muscles. Fingers curled into Obi-Wan’s thighs and it was almost painful, but then Anakin breached him and it was a complete distraction from the gentle sting against his thighs.

“ _Anakin!_ ” Obi-Wan cried out, and mewled as Anakin slowly fucked him with his tongue, wriggling it tauntingly against the velvet ridges of muscles. Obi-Wan’s crotch was throbbing with each flick of Anakin’s tongue, and he pressed his fingertips so hard into the mattress that he was surprised he didn’t rip holes into the sheets. Anakin was buried so deep that all Obi-Wan could see was the top of his head and occasional glimpses of forehead, and he pressed his head back, focusing on Anakin’s slippery tongue flickering against him. He wanted to touch himself, to relieve some of the building pressure, but he was afraid that if he submitted to the urge and stroked himself, Anakin would stop what he was doing as punishment, and that was the last thing Obi-Wan wanted. He could come untouched from this, even if it was torture, so he just writhed as best as he could against the bed, and cried out when Anakin pushed his legs even further apart. He hadn’t really known his legs would even spread this wide, and they ached a little at the unfamiliar angle, he would undoubtedly be sore the following day. He was so exposed, so helpless as Anakin fucked his mouth against his ass, and a little hum and a possessive growl from Anakin while he lapped at his loosened entrance was all he needed to spill himself in Anakin’s hair. He cried out a broken attempt at Anakin’s name and a slew of euphoric noises as Anakin continued to eat him through his orgasm. It was relentless and Obi-Wan begged Anakin to stop, his hips twitching at the overstimulation, thighs trembling badly in Anakin’s grasp, and feet kicking out slightly from where they dangled in the air, but Anakin just growled again and lapped at him quickly, occasionally stopping to suck softly and enjoy Obi-Wan’s wrecked cries and pleas for him to stop. The clear power trip should have been disgusting to Obi-Wan, but it was nothing but arousing to him, and he knew Anakin could feel that through their Force bond. He didn’t mind Anakin utterly taking him apart, despite his sobs and pleas for Anakin to _stop_ , to quit stimulating his spent body.

When Obi-Wan was finally boneless and just mewling brokenly, collapsed helplessly on the bed, Anakin finally gave him reprieve and pulled away, releasing his shaking legs. They fell to the bed unceremoniously, still wobbly from Anakin’s forceful hold, and he tried to suck in a breath. His entire lower half was still alight, tingling from the sensation of being so utterly taken apart and it was all he could do to weakly shift on the bed. Anakin’s face was slick with Obi-Wan’s juices and cum was splattered in his hair, and Obi-Wan dragged a hand down his face, then made a noise of protest when Anakin kissed him. It was a wet, sticky kiss, and Obi-Wan scrunched his nose and half-heartedly pushed Anakin away even though he was kissing back.

“So uncivilized,” he teased Anakin lightly, tracing his fingers along the side of Anakin’s neck.

“You _loved_ it,” Anakin shot back, and Obi-Wan was defeated, curling up against Anakin’s side. “I never knew you were such a _slut_ , Master.”

Obi-Wan harrumphed. “Such a vulgar choice of words, Anakin. I prefer--”

“Wanton whore?” Anakin teased, kissing Obi-Wan’s head and getting some of the stickiness in his hair as well, laughing when Obi-Wan grimaced.

“I was thinking more along the lines of _enthusiast_ ,” Obi-Wan replied haughtily, though it was all light-hearted banter and he was already settling comfortably into Anakin. With his body so utterly spent, his mind was soon to follow--he was _exhausted_.

“Enthusiastic about getting your ass eaten--duly noted,” Anakin replied, and laughed when Obi-Wan huffed at his vulgarity. He tried to go in for another kiss, but Obi-Wan did shove him away this time.

“You’re filthy, Anakin. You need to shower,” Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and relented when Anakin pouted, tugging him in for a brief kiss.

“Mmm… tomorrow,” Anakin mumbled, bringing a hand up to stroke through Obi-Wan’s hair.

Obi-Wan sighed and relented again, kissing Anakin once more. “Fine. Will you at least wash your face, if you won’t shower?”

Anakin pretended to ponder for a second, before _finally_ nodding in agreement and pushing himself up and off the bed. “I’ll go freshen up, I fully expect you to be ready for round two when I get back…”

“ _Anakin_ ,” Obi-Wan groaned and Anakin laughed, before disappearing from the bedroom and heading into the freshener. Obi-Wan watched him go fondly, staring at the closed door for a few moments, before stretching and moving to get ready for bed himself. His legs still felt a little weak when he swung them off the bed and stood, and he felt a little warm as memories of Anakin between them played through his mind. That image would be hard to keep out of his mind next time he was bored at a Council meeting, kriff. He managed to find his discarded undergarments that Anakin had thrown to the floor earlier, and tugged them back on. He also found a shirt to sleep in, as the very small bump that he was starting to develop still made him feel self-conscious. He finger-combed through his hair, then dimmed the lights and crawled into bed, after turning the sheet over in attempt to keep them from laying in the wet spot. They really needed to start laying down a towel or something.

Obi-Wan was already drifting when Anakin emerged from the freshener. He was warm, content, completely sated, his body worn and ready for rest, and he barely did anything more than stir when he felt Anakin’s presence.

Anakin stood in the doorway and gazed at him for a long moment, Obi-Wan was vaguely aware of that, Anakin’s eyes were warm and crinkled a little at the edges, as he enjoyed the peaceful sight before him. All Anakin wore to bed was a pair of slouchy pants that rested low on his hips, and it made Obi-Wan want to bite his hipbones. But tonight he was too tired, and all he could do was roll over into Anakin when the younger Jedi killed the lights and joined him in bed.

Anakin coaxed Obi-Wan into his arms and buried his nose in his hair and gave him a kiss there. Obi-Wan hummed sleepily and relaxed in Anakin’s embrace, snaking an arm across his midriff. Obi-Wan was always so warm and soft, and now there was not only his peaceful Force signature emanating while he slept, but also the lulling Force signature of their baby. It soothed Anakin’s mind and he settled into the bed, giving a soft yawn and then letting his eyes flutter shut. Darkness overcame him slowly, then all at once. He was warm.

.

_Disoriented, he was so disoriented. He grasped at the air in front of him, but his hands didn’t feel like they were working, they felt stiff at his sides and the air around him felt too heavy, the air he breathed in was too light, it wouldn't stay in his lungs._

_OBI-WAN!!_

_That was his voice screaming, he could hear it, but he didn’t feel it coming from his throat--anguish, all he felt was anguish, but he didn’t know why. The emotion didn’t feel like his, it felt like someone had opened up his chest and shoved it in._

_OBI-WAN!!_

_Another scream, just as broken as the first, and Anakin tried to step forward--tried, tried, tried, he felt like he was frozen in place, feet glued to the ground. Blink, maybe he just needed to blink, everything was so blurry…_

_OBI-WAN!!_

_Anakin blinked, the sound of his eyelids against his eyes a loud, smacking noise, and he seemed to fall forward this time when he tried to pick a foot up, hands reaching out to brace against nothing._

_‘We’re losing him’_

_The robotic voice of a med-droid echoed through his mind and he reached out, this time toward a durasteel table in med-bay. Obi-Wan was laying on the table top, head fallen to one side, unmoving and legs spread open wide. His crotch was soaked with red, and now Anakin could feel his mouth moving to make words, but he had no clue what he was saying._

_‘We can’t stop the hemorrhaging’_

_There was blood everywhere, Anakin realised, everything looked a little grey and it had been hard to pick out the red, but once he saw the red spread between Obi-Wan’s legs, he traced its flow, watched it pool on the table, dripping in slow motion from the edges--blood staining the med-droids up to the elbow._

_‘He’s gone’_

_Anakin didn’t know how he’d gotten over to the med table, but he was staring down at Obi-Wan’s lifeless form, horror struck. He tried to reach down, to touch Obi-Wan’s face, but his hand couldn’t quite make contact and he glanced around wildly at the med-droids, covered in blood and all staring at him in a semi-blank confusion._

_‘Time of death 15:08 Hours’_

_Obi-Wan… Anakin didn’t know if he said it outloud or just thought it, weeping and draping his body atop of Obi-Wan’s. No, no, no, not like this--no--_

_‘Delivered a healthy baby--’_

_No, no, no--_

_._

_No!_ Anakin woke with a start, jolting upright in bed, breath coming in sharp, quick pants. His skin was covered in a light sheen of sweat. He was cold.

One hand went to his clammy forehead to reorient himself while his other hand shot out panickedly to grope the next to him. It made contact with a warm, firm body, and he turned to see that Obi-Wan was still lying in bed next to him, asleep and breathing rhythmically, though he subconsciously seemed to press into Anakin’s touch, despite not being awake. Anakin was still panting, trying to catch his breath but his lungs had seized. After a few more moments of sitting up in bed, gasping for breath and shivering, he flopped back down against the pillow and blinked, arm still stretched out to rest on Obi-Wan.

It was just a dream. It was a dream.

So why did it feel like a premonition?

Anakin was no stranger to nightmares. He had grown up a slave, had left his mother behind to a life of captivity at a young age, had fought his first battle at nine years old, had eventually come to watch his mother die, and had lost an arm in a showdown with Count Dooku. Almost every milestone in his life lent itself to nightmares, especially when he had no other way to process the experiences he had. He’d had his fair share of nightmares, some that left him screaming into the darkness, usually only to have Obi-Wan running into his room at whatever ungodly hour of the night it was. He’d been tormented, frightened, devastated by some of the nightmares that had plagued his mind over the years, but none had ever felt so... _sickeningly realistic._

The anguish he’d felt at seeing Obi-Wan still, lifeless, spread out on the delivery table like a vessel, like a chrysalis that a bug had just ripped its way out of… Anakin sank back into bed and wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan as tightly as he could without waking him. _No_. He would never let that happen to Obi-Wan. He would protect him from everything. This was no different.

He hadn’t been able to save his mother all those years ago, he hadn’t been strong enough then. But he was strong enough now, he would be the greatest Jedi in the galaxy, just like he knew he could be, and he wouldn’t let _anything_ happen to Obi-Wan.

He pressed a kiss to the back of Obi-Wan’s neck and pressed his front against Obi-Wan’s back, nose at the nape of his neck, until every inch of their bodies were pressed together. He would save Obi-Wan, no matter the cost.

He listened to his master’s heartbeat, memorized its rhythmic thumping. He didn’t sleep for the remainder of the night.


	3. Second Trimester

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took way longer than anticipated, one particular scene just really had me hung up! Same disclaimer as the previous chapter--some dialogue is taken straight from the ROTS novelization, for consistency and canon compliance. There are hints of canon compliance in this chapter, but mostly canon divergence! Anyway, I think that's about it for this chapter... I hope you enjoy!

The nightmares didn’t subside. 

For the next week, every time Anakin fell asleep at night, he was haunted by the same nightmare. Nothing about it ever varied. He was always confused, always in med-bay. Obi-Wan was always laying on the delivery table, lifeless. The med-droids were holding a baby, it was screaming and crying but Anakin could never hear it. The droids were covered up to their elbows in Obi-Wan’s blood, there was  _ so much blood _ , and the visual in and of itself explained what happened. 

Obi-Wan died during childbirth. 

It was a rare occurrence, to die during childbirth. When medical aid was provided, the number of creatures who died during childbirth was almost nonexistent. But there was still just the slightest of chances, that uncontrollable hemorrhaging would occur and nothing the med-droids could do would stop it.

Every time Anakin woke up from this repetitive nightmare, he would reach for Obi-Wan, and latch onto his nearest pulse point, would reach for him with the Force as well. It never disturbed Obi-Wan, or roused him; he had long since adjusted to Anakin waking in terror or distress from nightmares, and he trusted that if they were bad enough, Anakin would wake him. However, Anakin could never find the words to tell Obi-Wan what he was dreaming about.  _ What if they weren’t just dreams? _

He knew exactly what Obi-Wan would do. He would sigh fondly and mutter  _ oh Anakin,  _ then pull him into an embrace and comfort him. He would tell him that they were just nightmares, that Anakin was just letting stress and internalized fears get to him. Everything would be fine, nothing would happen to him.

Everything  _ would  _ be fine, Anakin would make sure of that. He would never let anything happen to Obi-Wan. 

Still, the nightmares were setting him on edge, even more on edge than usual. He felt like a string pulled so impossibly tight that just the slightest little tug would make him snap. 

He and Obi-Wan were currently making the most of their time at the Temple and taking some much needed R&R. Their missions during the Clone Wars had been nothing less than utterly exhausting, and Anakin was really beginning to feel for Obi-Wan’s past exasperation at having to worry about a reckless padawan as well as the mission at hand. Ahsoka was a handful and having to think about and consider her safety on missions nearly had Anakin pulling his hair out. 

He was currently fiddling with some spare parts, soothing his mind and busying his hands, while Obi-Wan had been fooling around with some datapads and comming a few different senators for discussion purposes. Anakin had only been half paying attention, he just knew that Obi-Wan was pacing, meaning that the conversations weren’t going the way that he wanted them to. Obi-Wan only paced when he was frustrated. 

“Oof!”

The noise coming from Obi-Wan made Anakin drop his screwdriver and within moments he was at Obi-Wan’s side, concern etched onto every part of his face. 

“Master?”

Obi-Wan grimaced after he had lowered himself into a chair, Anakin grasping his elbow and attempting to help, but really just making it even harder for him to get situated. “I’m fine, Anakin.”

Anakin’s expression was doubtful, as was his hand still on Obi-Wan’s elbow, and Obi-Wan sighed heavily. 

“Really, I’m fine. I think,” Obi-Wan grimaced and rested a hand on his stomach, “I think it... _ they _ just moved, that’s all.” 

Anakin’s eyes grew wide. “What? Are you sure? Most movement doesn’t start until sixteen weeks, though, Master. And you’re only at thirteen.” 

Now Obi-Wan was really grimacing. Of course, Anakin had read up on human pregnancy. For all that his padawan was careless and impulsive, he had incredibly attention to detail when he wanted to. Before long, he was sure that Anakin would know even more about pregnancy than he did, if he didn’t already.

“It was just a flutter,” Obi-Wan replied, and he could tell that Anakin was still unconvinced. He sighed heavily. This still wasn’t his favourite topic of conversation, and he had tried to be more open about his pregnancy with Anakin since they had agreed to be in this together, but he still found it difficult to talk about the life growing inside of him. He would tell Anakin when he was having bad morning sickness, or if he was having a particular food craving, or if he was particularly  _ horny _ , but talking about the baby he was carrying in such explicit terms, as movement or life...well, that was still hard. “Or maybe it was just an unrelated pang. Either way, I’m fine, Anakin.”

“ _ Don’t lie to me!! _ ” 

Obi-Wan was shocked by Anakin’s loud outburst and recoiled from Anakin’s gripping fingers, gazing up at him with a frown of displeasure and shock. “Anakin--!”

“I’m sorry,  _ I’m sorry _ , Master, I’m sorry,” Immediately Anakin was apologizing, so profusely that it almost surprised Obi-Wan more than the shouting had. 

“Anakin, Anakin--stop,” Obi-Wan reached a hand out toward Anakin and closed it around his forearm gently. “What’s wrong?” 

Anakin slumped, shoulders going down and eyes finding the floor, the touch seeping all the rage from him almost instantly. “I just… I need to be  _ stronger  _ than I am--I’m meant to be a great Jedi--”

“And you  _ are _ a great Jedi-- _ Anakin _ , come here. What’s gotten into you?” Obi-Wan tugged gently on Anakin’s arm, then not so gently in an attempt to haul the younger Jedi into his lap. 

Anakin complied with a mumbled,  _ are you sure I’m not hurting you?  _ To which Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and simply pulled him closer. Anakin sat sideways in Obi-Wan’s lap, letting his legs drape over the arm of the chair,  and Obi-Wan settled his arms around Anakin’s waist securely. “I know what I am, Master,” Anakin finally said quietly, “But I need to be  _ better. _ ” 

And he thought about telling Obi-Wan the truth, really he did. After all, he knew he should tell him. Not only did Obi-Wan deserve to know, but it was always possible that he could help. They had  _ months,  _ they could tackle the problem like they did everything else,  _ together _ . So Anakin’s lips started to part, but then the words scratched in his throat and he swallowed them back down, when Obi-Wan raked gentle fingers across his back. He just  _ couldn’t _ tell Obi-Wan. 

“You don’t need to be  _ anything _ , Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmured, pressing his face into Anakin’s shoulder and laying a kiss there. “You don’t even need to be mine, not if you don’t want to be. Have you changed your mind about all of this? Is that what this is about?”

“ _ What? No! _ ” Anakin’s face contorted in horror and he squirmed in Obi-Wan’s arms, turning enough so that he could cup Obi-Wan’s face and bring their mouths together for a quick, impromptu kiss. “No, I haven’t changed my mind. Don’t even think that.”

Obi-Wan didn’t respond beyond a vague hum, and Anakin kissed him again, trying to pour all the love and devotion that he felt into the soft smacking of their lips. “I love you so much, I’m sorry,” Anakin said again, kissing Obi-Wan’s lips firmly and moving one hand up to tangle in his hair. “I’m just stressed, you know the Chancellor’s got me running back and forth, doing everything, and Master Yoda seems to need us every other day, I got him a whole _planet_ back and Master Windu still doesn’t trust me… You know you’re everything to me, Obi-Wan,” He kissed the older Jedi again, and he felt him huff against his mouth, but there was no vehemence behind it, only sweet affection.

Obi-Wan broke down with a smile and let his arms tighten around Anakin’s waist, bringing their mouths crashing together for another sweet moment. “They  _ are  _ running you ragged, my Republic poster- _ man _ , aren’t they?” Obi-Wan teased sweetly and Anakin pouted a little, muttering something along the lines of  _ was one time!  _ Before Obi-Wan pinched his side and coaxed him to readjust so that they could lazily make out, Obi-Wan moving a hand down to tease at Anakin’s hipbone as he pressed his tongue to Anakin’s already parting lips. 

As they kissed slowly, exploring each other’s mouths for the thousandth time, Anakin avowed that he would protect Obi-Wan no matter what it took. He was a great Jedi, he knew he was, and he would use all of his power to save the one he loved. And while Obi-Wan stroked his hipbone and sucked gentle kisses on his tongue, he believed it. 

.

.

“Young Master Skywalker.”

Master Yoda’s greeting toward him only seemed to have just about as much disapproval as usual, and Anakin was pleasantly surprised when the ancient master had squinted at him, then invited him in with less tones of disapproval. Master Yoda had never been his biggest fan, and he very rarely bothered to hide his general disapproval of Anakin’s very existence. Had it not been for Yoda’s high opinion of Obi-Wan, Anakin wasn’t sure that the master would tolerate him at  _ all _ , prophecy or no prophecy.

Trying to explain his situation, his visions, without being specific, was no easy task. Obi-Wan had said that Master Yoda already  _ knew  _ of his condition, but he didn’t know Anakin was the father. Anakin thought about just throwing promises to the wind, to telling Master Yoda everything and begging for help, but he didn’t want to ruin things for he and Obi-Wan for the time being. Besides, if he admitted to Master Yoda that he had indeed knocked up one of his prized Jedi Knights, first of all he might die of embarrassment, and second of all, he was sure it would only worsen Master Yoda’s already poor opinion of him. So instead, he had blathered and stumbled over his words, explaining that there had been troubling dreams, except they  _ weren’t dreams _ , they were always the same, they were so specific… He’d floundered helplessly until Yoda had finally taken pity on him, detecting both from his tragic verbal expulsion and the stress and worry rolling off of Anakin like a stormcloud that he  _ needed  _ it, and suggested that they meditate together.

He hadn’t even asked for details.

Anakin was so grateful at Yoda’s considerate approach that he had needed their full meditation time to compose himself, as tears had begun to sting his eyes, he was feeling so relieved and unexpectedly hopeful. Obi-Wan had always told him to turn to the Jedi Council for anything, now maybe they would finally help him. 

By the time that Yoda was opening his eyes, Anakin had recovered from his slight emotional outburst and was ready to get help from the master. 

“Premonitions…. Premonitions… Premonitions… Deep questions they are. Sense the future, once all Jedi could; now few alone have this skill. Visions… gifts from the Force--and curses. Signposts and snares. These visions of yours…”

_ 15:08.  _ “Pain,” Anakin replied impulsively and damn it, the tears were right back in his eyes. “They are of pain and suffering… and  _ death _ .” Anakin barely got the word out and he had to suck a breath back in.

Yoda mused. “In these troubled times, no surprise this is. Yourself you see, or someone you know?”

Anakin found that he couldn’t answer. Someone he knew just didn’t seem to express what it was that he was seeing. 

“Someone close to you?” Yoda prompted gently, and he had probably known that was the case from the beginning. 

“Yes,” Anakin replied, glancing away from Yoda’s stare. The master would probably assume that he was talking about Obi-Wan, but at this point, Anakin didn’t care. He just needed to get what he came for, which was reassurance, a way to  _ save  _ Obi-Wan. He opened his mouth, ready to pour out the questions, but Yoda pre-empted him and spoke again. 

“The fear of loss is a path to the dark side, young one.” 

Anakin stared, then drew himself up defiantly. “Well, I won’t let my visions come true, Master. I  _ won’t _ .” 

Yoda was unaffected by the passion in Anakin’s voice, and continued just as calmly. “Rejoice for those who transform into the Force. Mourn them not. Miss them not.” 

Anakin got chills from head to toe. Mourn Obi-Wan not? Miss Obi-Wan not? The only way that Anakin wouldn’t morn or miss Obi-Wan would be if he  _ transformed into the Force  _ with him. For a second or two, he thought he might throw up. If it was up to Master Yoda, Obi-Wan would die on a delivery table, a pool of blood between his thighs and no light in his face?  _ No!  _ “Then why do we fight at all, Master? Why do we save  _ anybody? _ ” Anakin burst out, fists clenching at his side. Some good meditation had done him.

“Speaking of  _ anybody _ , we are not,” Yoda sternly reminded him, fixing Anakin with a glare that almost always put the young Jedi in his place. “Speaking of you, and your vision, and your  _ fear _ , we are. The shadow of greed, attachment is. What you fear to lose, train yourself to release. Let go of fear, and loss cannot harm you.”

Anakin thought that he just might beat Obi-Wan to it and  _ die _ . That was it? A  _ let it go  _ and  _ they’re in a better place now  _ spiel that his mother would have given him when he was a child back on Tatooine? The wisest sage of the  _ entire Jedi Order _ had nothing better to offer than a self-help datapad on the five stages of grief? Was Master Yoda really so  _ oblivious _ , or was he really just that pious? There was  _ no way  _ Anakin was going to sit back, fold his hands, close his eyes, and  _ meditate  _ while what was left of Obi-Wan’s life evaporate, and he  _ transformed into the Force _ . If letting go was what a Jedi would do, well, then they were all just lucky that Anakin was leaving the Order in another six months. 

Anakin stood, making the slightest bow toward Master Yoda. “Thank you for hearing me, Master Yoda. You’ve said that the gift of premonitions is rare. Maybe I do not have this gift. I think that these might just be dreams.” Anakin didn’t sound even half as bitter as he felt, and he turned to leave. He was late to another meeting as it was. 

“Hope they are, I do, young Skywalker,” Yoda murmured as he watched the young Jedi leave, “Hope they are, I do.” 

.

.

“Chancellor, I’m sorry that I’m late, I was detained in a meeting with Master Yoda…” Anakin burst into his and Palpatine’s typical meeting room in the Senate Building, trying to catch a breath before he completely entered.

Palpatine shook his head and motioned with his hand indifferently. “It’s no matter, Anakin, don’t worry. Come in.” 

Anakin entered the room, coming to stand in the center of the room, folding his hands into the sleeves of his robes and standing still and attentive, though his mind still wandered. He knew that the Chancellor undoubtedly wanted him to start keeping even more tabs on the Council, and Master Yoda had  _ just  _ expressed that Anakin would need to start keeping even more tabs on the Chancellor, and at this point Anakin hardly even knew how to keep track of who he was spying on. And none of it  _ mattered _ , not when Obi-Wan’s blood-slicked thighs and pale, lifeless face haunted his mind. 

“I have wonderful news--genuinely, perk up, my boy, because you’ll be very pleased to hear this--Clone Intelligence has located General Grievous,” Palpatine said, turning to face Anakin, scrutinizing his expression behind a subtle facade of passivity. 

“That--that is very good news indeed, Chancellor!” Anakin sputtered slightly, not expecting to receive such news today. He knew without a doubt that meant Obi-Wan would have a mission coming up, but the inklings of fear that he wouldn’t be allowed to join Obi-Wan on it already began to creep up. The last thing he needed was another reason to worry about Obi-Wan. “He won’t escape us again.” Anakin added for good measure.

“Of course not, because I will direct the Council to give you the assignment, Anakin. Your gifts are wasted every second spent on Coruscant--you should be out in the field.”

Anakin’s stomach dropped. He wondered what the Chancellor would think about him wasting his gifts for the entire rest of his life, on a planet even less relevant than Coruscant. “Thank you, Sir, but the Council coordinates Jedi assignments.” 

Palpatine gave a long and heavy sigh, squaring his shoulders, and Anakin shifted almost uncomfortably. “Yes, of course. And I woudn’t want to  _ offend _ or  _ overstep _ the Council. You said that Knight  _ Kenobi  _ has been assigned to find General Grievous, did you not?”

Anakin simply nodded, hoping that the worry gently emanating from him was unreadable. He thanked the Force for the thousandth time that Senator Palpatine was not Force sensitive. The man was already uncannily perceptive, if he was Force sensitive, then he would surely know almost every last thought in Anakin’s head. 

“And I have no doubt that the  _ dashing _ Knight Kenobi will be able to _ find _ General Grievous..but apprehend him? You were Knight Kenobi’s padawan for a number of years, Anakin, he’s not that kind of man. So tell me, do you think that the Jedi Council has picked the right man for the job? Do you think that the Jedi Council can  _ always  _ be trusted to do the right thing?”

“Yes,” Anakin replied too quickly, and already he had given his dishonesty away. “I believe that they always  _ try _ , Sir.”  

“Do you? Anakin, sit down.”

It was the most forcefully that Palpatine had ever spoken to him, and Anakin felt unnerved, yet still willing to comply. After all, Palpatine had always been honest with him and had always supported him. Anakin wasn’t sure that he agreed with Palpatine’s suspicions of treason, but he was willing to indulge and help the Chancellor in any way that he could. 

Palpatine sat down next to him, instead of across from him and Anakin shifted slightly, rigid in his seat as he looked over to meet Palpatine’s aloof gaze. 

“You know what I suspect of the Council, Anakin. You know the whispers of treason. For all that the Council is a place of peace, of  _ honor _ , it is antiquated. The Jedi Code is old, it is dogmatic, surely you see that? The Council doesn’t represent the very democracy they strive to uphold, Council members aren’t even  _ elected _ . How can the Jedi Council ever truly support the Republic, when their own interests and traditions will always come first?” 

Anakin was at a loss. Palpatine had expressed distaste for many aspects of the Council before, but this was an attack. Of course, he got defensive. “Because Jedis are on the side of  _ good _ \--”

Palpatine held a hand up, and the slight smile on his face was the most unnerving part of the conversation. “Good is a point of view, Anakin. Let me ask you, do you think that it’s  _ good  _ for me to ask you to keep tabs on the very Jedi Masters you serve for me?” 

“As a matter of fact, I  _ don’t _ , Sir--”

“So, the Jedi Council  _ hasn’t  _ asked you to take advantage of my trust, to spy on me in return?” 

Palpatine was perceptive indeed. Anakin wasn’t sure whether it had just been a natural assumption, or if he had been a terrible spy all along, but either way, he gaped at Palpatine, flabbergasted by being slapped with the truth, and fearful that Palpatine was angry with him, though when he tentatively reached out with his Force signature, he could feel no thick anger emanating from the Senator. Palpatine always emanate an almost unnerving passivity. If Anakin didn’t know any better, he would say that Palpatine was shielding. 

“I-I don’t know what to say--”

“It’s all right, Anakin,” Palpatine waved his hand dismissively, “I have nothing to hide.”

Silence lapsed between them for a few moments, Anakin staring holes into the floor and almost wishing that he was back under Master Yoda’s scrutinizing gaze, until finally, Palpatine spoke again, in that same calm yet questioning tone. “Let me ask you another question, Anakin. A more personal one. Indulge me if you will.” 

Anakin nodded, then mumbled a verbal affirmation  _ Of course, Sir,  _ and forced his eyes to come up from the floor.

“Do you  _ always  _ trust the Jedi Council? Not with the matters of the galaxy, not with the Republic, not with the Senate,  _ certainly not  _ with me--forget all of those things, Anakin. What I want to know, is if you always trust the Council to help  _ you _ .”

Again, the defensive beast within Anakin reared its head. “The Jedi Council is  _ good _ , Chancellor. They believe in justice and  _ peace _ \--”

Palpatine nearly scoffed and it might have been the most emotion Anakin had ever seen him show. “You sound like you’re reciting a manifesto, Anakin. That is not what I asked you.” Palpatine paused, then continued in a gentler voice. “I know that you are incredibly loyal to the Jedi, Anakin. Believe it or not, I have always admired you for it. My question for you, is do they reciprocate that loyalty to you?” 

Anakin frowned. “Yes. I don’t understand what you’re implying, Senator.” 

“So, they would never turn you away if you needed help? Never ask you to betray your  _ own values _ ?”

“My values are those of the Constitution--”

“ _ Never  _ ask you to forsake a friend? Maybe forsake someone who is  _ more  _ than a friend?” 

“Chancellor--!” 

_ The shadow of greed, attachment is. _

Anakin’s face was flushed, and he was genuinely speechless. His head was spinning--so heavy, lies upon  _ lies _ , so much double crossing that he couldn’t remember whose side he was supposed to be on, if there even were sides, he felt like he was spinning out of orbit and all he could see was blood, Obi-Wan’s  _ blood _ \--Anakin took in a shaky breath and his hands had come out of his sleeves and came to grip his knees.

“I’m sorry, Anakin. That was inappropriate,” Palpatine apologized, but just slightest hint about his voice told Anakin that he wasn’t actually sorry at all. “Jedi aren’t  _ allowed  _ friends, more than friends, are you? I didn’t mean to imply that you would defy the Jedi Code in such a way. After all, attachment is the very shadow of greed…”

Anakin’s head snapped up at the phrase, eyes wide, and if Palpatine had been trying to test him, then Anakin had failed spectacularly. He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t think of a single, solitary thing to say, and his fingers curled in the fabric of his cloak. What would he  _ do  _ if the Chancellor knew about Obi-Wan? He trusted the Chancellor, after Obi-Wan and maybe Padme, he was probably the only person who Anakin genuinely believed had his best interests at heart. But he had  _ promised _ Obi-Wan that he wouldn’t tell a soul until it was time. 

As he sat in silence, nursing his worries, Palpatine finally began to speak again. “You know, this brings to mind an old legend.”

Anakin didn’t reply, his mind still felt like it was going at lightspeed, and he flexed his fingers. 

“Are you familiar with  _ The Tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise? _ ” 

Anakin blinked, and shook his head.

Palpatine smiled, and still, Anakin could feel no volatile emotions coming from him. “I thought not. It’s not the kind of story that a  _ Jedi  _ would tell you. It’s a Sith legend.” Palpatine watched Anakin bristled, and then continued, “It’s about a Dark Lord who had turned his sight inward so deeply that he had come to comprehend, and master, life itself. And--because the two are one, when seen clearly enough--death itself.” 

If Anakin hadn’t been paying attention before, he was now. He sat straight up in his chair and gaped at Palpatine. Treason, lies,  _ politics,  _ they all flew from his mind as he absorbed what Palpatine had just said to him. “You mean to say, he could actually keep someone safe from death?” 

Palpatine smiled. “According to the legend, he could directly influence the midichlorians to create life; with such knowledge, to maintain life in someone already living would seem a small matter, don’t you agree?” 

Was he actually hearing this? Anakin continued to gape, and he wasn’t sure if it was wishful thinking, or if he really was as naïve as Obi-Wan feared sometimes, because he thought how wonderfully coincidental and convenient it was that Palpatine would bring something like this up, when he was drowning in visions of Obi-Wan’s lifeless face, bled out body… “This…  _ Sith Lord _ , he had powers stronger than death?” 

“The dark side seems to be--from my reading--the pathway to many abilities some would consider unnatural.” Palpatine replied neutrally, pretending not to notice how Anakin gripped the sides of his chair, clearly restless and wanting to move about as he processed all of this new information. 

“What happened to him?” Anakin asked, trying not to sound as demanding as he felt.

“Oh, well, it  _ is  _ a tragedy after all…” Palpatine trailed off and glanced at the desperation in Anakin’s eyes before continuing. “Once he had gained this ultimate power, he had nothing to fear. Except losing it--that’s why the Jedi Council brought him to mind, understand--”

“But what  _ happened? _ ” Anakin asked impatiently, nearly clawing at the chair. 

“Well, to safeguard his power, he taught the path toward it to his apprentice.”

“ _ And? _ ”

“And his apprentice killed him in his sleep,” Palpatine said neutrally, as if simply commenting on the weather, “Darth Plagueis never saw it coming. That’s the tragic irony of the story, you see. He could save anyone in the galaxy from death--anyone but himself.” 

_ He could save anyone in the galaxy from death. Anyone.  _

“What about the apprentice? What happened to him?” Anakin asked, scrambling on to some kind of hope that this tragedy wasn’t, well,  _ completely _ tragic… 

“His apprentice? Oh, well,  _ he  _ goes on to become the greatest Dark Lord the Sith have ever known…” 

Anakin stared at Palpatine for a few unwavering moments, then sunk back into his chair. Everything that had been said to him that day had been so much to process, and he couldn’t even tell Obi-Wan  _ any  _ of it. After a moment, Anakin spoke again, slowly.  _ Time of death 15:08 Hours.  _ “What if it’s not just a legend?”

“I’m sorry?” Palpatine seemed genuinely confused and Anakin fought not to roll his eyes.

“What if Darth Plagueis really  _ had _ lived and what if someone really  _ had _ his power?” 

“Oh, Anakin, don’t mistake me… I am rather certain that Plagueis  _ did  _ live. And if someone actually had that power...well, he would indeed be one of the most powerful men in the galaxy, not to mention virtually immortal…”

“How would I  _ find  _ him?” Anakin knew that he wasn’t being subtle--the Chancellor could draw what conclusions he wanted. This was important, more important than being outed to the Council, more important than  _ anything _ . 

“I really couldn’t say, Anakin. You could ask the Jedi council, I suppose… but of course, if they ever found this Sith Lord, they’d kill him on the spot. Not as punishment for any crime, you understand. Innocence is irrelevant to the Jedi, as you know. They would kill him for being Sith, and his knowledge would die with him.”

Anakin froze, then sunk back into his chair again. He had been clenching his fists and when he released them, he saw that his hands were trembling. He took in a deep breath, held it for five counts, then released it on those same counts, just like Obi-Wan had taught him to when he was a child.  _ Obi-Wan. OBI-WAN!!  _ “I just… I have to--Chancellor, you seem to know so much about this, I need you to tell me, now, please: would it be possible, possible at all, to learn this power?” 

Palpatine shrugged, and it was, to date, the most maddening thing Anakin had ever seen anyone do. 

“Well, clearly,” Palpatine finally said, “Not from a Jedi.” 

.

It had been a fairly busy day, between rushing around to complete their diplomatic covert mission, then giving a debrief upon arrival back on Coruscant. Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka had been undercover and off-planet for a week now, and finally, had managed to call it successful and return to Coruscant. They had all underestimated how good a shower at the Temple would feel after a week of underworld grime. Anakin had given a glowing report of Ahsoka’s performance, highly recommending to the Council that they give Ahsoka another bead. Obi-Wan had given an update and a speculation about the underlord smugglers they had gotten a lead on, and he was almost sure without a doubt now that they were part of a larger network of trafficking. Master Yoda had commended them on having yet another successful mission, though Obi-Wan had caught the glint in the grand master’s eye that no one else would have.  _ Playing with fire you are, Obi-Wan _ . No one but Yoda and Anakin knew the extra risks that Obi-Wan was undergoing on missions these days, otherwise he’d surely not be allowed to go. He was no longer just putting his own life at risk. Obi-Wan tried to keep in mind that he wouldn’t be able to do this forever, it would come to an end before he really knew it. But for now, he would continue. Even if it meant getting chiding looks from Master Yoda. 

Despite having such a busy day, they’d manage to wrap everything up before sunset, meaning that it could be a leisurely evening and an early night. Initially, Anakin had suggested they go do something fun together, perhaps a nice meal out, or a little stargazing. However, by the time they made it back to their private quarters, they both had to give in and admit that they were absolutely exhausted. The mission had taken more of a toll than either of them had realised, especially Obi-Wan. He didn’t like to admit it, but he tired more easily these days, found himself needing more sleep and more rest. However, Anakin was pretty beat that night, too, and he was able to find validation from that. They’d opted to just have a laid back night, Anakin had spent most of it tinkering with some spare parts on the floor and musing over making another android.  _ Do you really have enough parts for that?  _ Obi-Wan would occasionally muse from the bed, peering over skeptically, where he was propped up, pleasure reading a rather silly mystery on his datapad.  _ I could make an android from a box-spring and a sheet of durasteel!  _ Anakin would retort petulantly, and Obi-Wan would smile fondly and roll his eyes before going back to his datapad. At one point, Anakin had commed Ahsoka, despite having only seen her a few hours prior, and Obi-Wan rolled his eyes grandly, but couldn’t help a small smile as he listened to Anakin chat animatedly with his young padawan, about everything from the Jedi Council to whether or not they thought Lux was attractive or not. (Obi-Wan’s ears might have perked up a little for this particular conversation, and he was placated when Anakin’s nose scrunched and he replied  _ ewww, no _ no matter how much Ahsoka whined about it.) Aside from the brief chat with Ahsoka, Anakin mostly fooled around with the spare parts, and occasionally Ob-Wan would hear a zap of electricity or a quiet curse from Anakin, and there was something undeniably warm and comforting in it. It was just a gentle reminder of Anakin’s presence, existence. 

He was on chapter fifteen of his mystery when his eyelids started drooping, and he set the datapad down on the small durasteel stand next to the bed. He considered just turning in for the night, but he was hyperaware of Anakin breathing and he squirmed down into the sheets. “Anakin.”

“Mmm?” 

“Come to bed.” Obi-Wan said softly, a little embarrassed at making such a request, but he couldn’t entirely help himself. Now that he was carrying, his body was producing all sorts of hormones that had previously laid dormant for the most part. Hormones that gave him certain needs to sate, and made it extremely uncomfortable not to do so. In short, he got horny regularly, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, pressed against Anakin’s shirtless, lithe body, if he didn’t get off before going to sleep. Granted, he could have excused himself to the freshener and taken care of the problem before himself, but he was tired, and Anakin was always more than happy to lend a hand. Literally. 

Anakin made a noise, as though he were about to retort  _ five more minutes, Master _ , but then he caught on to the underlying request and smirked. “Okay,” he replied,”just let me get changed.” 

Getting changed required not only a change of clothing, but also teeth brushing, face washing, hair combing, and what felt like three thousand other nightly rituals, and Obi-Wan had to fight off a groan. He was reclining against a mound of pillows in bed, watching Anakin pace back and forth while brushing his teeth. Anakin was already shirtless, and only wearing a pair of low-riding sleeping pants, and Obi-Wan’s cock was already half-hard in his leggings. 

“Ah’oka di’ r’lly w’ll t’day, d’t you th’k?” 

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes as his padawan spoke with a mouthful of toothpaste, a little bit of the white substance escaping his mouth and dribbling down his chin. That wasn’t suggestive imagery or anything. “Yes, she did,” Obi-Wan agreed, and something within his chest twinged, creating an uncomfortable juxtaposition with the aching in his hips. 

Anakin lit up at the validation, then disappeared to spit out his toothpaste. Obi-Wan heard the running of water and almost started to count down the seconds, until Anakin finally emerged. He didn’t waste anymore preambulatory time, and instead crawled onto the bed then pounced, straddling Obi-Wan and setting to work littering kisses across his neck and chest. 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan admonished with a soft chuckle, one hand coming to tangle in Anakin’s hair. 

“Don’t pretend this isn’t what you want, Master,” Anakin murmured darkly, nipping at Obi-Wan’s collarbone and undoing his tunic. “I can  _ feel  _ the lust rolling off of you, your force signature is filthy with desperation, can practically smell how wet you already are for me,” 

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan half-moaned, ashamed at how right Anakin was. He was so wet that it was soaking through, and he rubbed uncomfortably back against the bed. 

“Mmm, what do you want, Master?” 

“T-thought you could  _ feel  _ it,” he shot back, letting his free hand move to give Anakin’s ass a playful squeeze.

Anakin growled back playfully and tongued at the corner of his mouth. “I can, but you’re not getting it until I hear you say it.” 

Obi-Wan groaned. Anakin had always enjoyed dirty talk more than he had, Obi-Wan usually felt awkward doing it, even if he enjoyed the often obscene reactions it pulled from Anakin. However, tonight he was too desperate to bother with embarrassment over it, he needed Anakin five minutes ago. “Finger me,” he said softly, acting a little more demure than usual for added effect, “Fuck me, I just need you inside of me, Anakin.”

It worked. Anakin swore, then climbed off of Obi-Wan and rolled him over onto his side unceremoniously. He would’ve grumbled about the manhandling, but Anakin was already tugging down his bottoms and sliding a finger into him. It made an obscene squelching noise and Obi-Wan was glad he wasn’t facing Anakin. 

“ _ Force _ , you really are wet for me, aren’t you?” Anakin murmured in disbelief, moving his finger in and out a few times. It slid effortlessly, so he pressed another one in to get a stretch, and Obi-Wan keened. 

“Not just you,” he protested breathlessly, shamefully trying to thrust back onto Anakin’s hand, “my hormones are out of balance, I can’t help it…”

“Mhhmm… Or maybe my cock is just that good,” Anakin retorted smugly and Obi-Wan huffed, but didn’t protest, as he tried again to grind back onto Anakin’s hand. 

“Ana- _ kin _ ,” 

“Mmm, you want to get fucked, don’t you?” Anakin spoke hotly in his ear, and the third finger he added was just torture at this point. The fingers were deep, but not deep enough, and the throbbing in Obi-Wan’s core made him want to get split in half. 

“Yes, yes, I want to get fucked, I want you to fuck me, is that what you want to hear? Just  _ put it in _ , Anakin,” Obi-Wan begged impatiently as Anakin spread him open with two of his fingers and stroked with the third. “ _ Fuck _ ” 

Anakin was entirely too pleased with himself and he mouthed at Obi-Wan’s shoulder, continuing to finger him until he could feel his Force signature tremble with the need to come. It was then that he finally stopped and Obi-Wan tried to bite his lip, but it was too late and a whine had already spilled out. Anakin laughed then and Obi-Wan had half a mind to push him off the bed. The laugh was short lived, though, as he felt Anakin shift around and the bed dip. “Hell, Master, where’s the lube--?”

Obi-Wan grit his teeth. “You don’t need to use any, Anakin.”

“But--” 

“Anakin, I’m wet enough without it,” Obi-Wan replied with a huff. He had definitely taught his padawan about safe sex to an excess, but maybe he really should have addressed the lubricant wasn’t a necessity when it came to carriers, as their bodies produced a natural lubricant of its own. Of course, a little extra lubricant never hurt, but it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Especially when he was almost dripping… 

Anakin was silent for a moment, and Obi-Wan was about to roll over, when suddenly Anakin was pressed against his back, mouth against his ear, and his prosthetic hand on his hip, holding him steady, while the other aligned his cock with his already swollen entrance. “I’m going to fuck the hell out of you,” Anakin promised, voice gravelly with lust, and Obi-Wan’s eyes rolled back a little in anticipation and his toes curled when Anakin pressed the head of his cock in. He was able to slid in with very little resistance, and Anakin bit at Obi-Wan’s shoulder, then teased, “Maybe I should knock you up more often.”

“Not--funny--” Obi-Wan replied, but he couldn’t protest for much longer, and instead dissolved into a rhythm of soft, breathy noises as Anakin fucked into him. 

“Mmm...good, so good,” Anakin babbled, his chest stuck to Obi-Wan’s back as he rolled his hips, cock buried deep inside of Obi-Wan and only sliding out enough that he could nail his prostate with every thrust. 

Though Obi-Wan could always come untouched these days, Anakin decided to be extra nice that night since he’d given Obi-Wan such a hard time, and let his hand slide from where it rested on Obi-Wan’s hip to wrap around his cock. Obi-Wan rewarded him with a strangled moan of his name, and Anakin gripped at the base, then pumped it steadily in his hand. 

There was no way that Obi-Wan was going to last like this and he didn’t, he came all over Anakin’s hand, and didn’t even protest when Anakin pressed his cum-slicked hand over Obi-Wan’s mouth moments later as he buried himself in Obi-Wan’s ass for his release. Obi-Wan could taste himself as cum now slicked his lips, but before he could lick, Anakin pulled his hand away and licked it up himself, still breathing heavily. Obi-Wan licked his lips and exhaled and inhaled heavily while waiting for Anakin to pull out. When he finally did, Obi-Wan could feel a mixture of fluids leak out of his ass and he grimaced slightly at the feeling. Usually he would clean up, but he was tired and his hormones kind of made him want to cuddle too--they totally did, no, he was  _ not  _ using that as an excuse--so instead of getting up, he simply pulled his pants back up and rolled over, trying not to notice the damp spot that spread across the fabric. Anakin had flopped back on the bed, shirtless and glistening just slightly with sweat, and if he had been smoking then he would have been the perfect picture of post-coital haze. Obi-Wan immediately gravitated towards him, curling up at his side and letting his head nuzzle against Anakin’s chest. Anakin kissed the top of his head and let one arm slip underneath Obi-Wan, hauling him even closer. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Anakin murmured, letting his thumb graze over the soft skin of Obi-Wan’s shoulder. 

Obi-Wan huffed quietly and let one of his hands rub up Anakin’s chest affectionately. “Maybe, but you won’t be saying that when I look like a whale.” 

“What’s a whale?” Anakin asked, genuinely curious, and for a second Obi-Wan’s heart ached. He often forgot how unworldly Anakin was, even after all this time. Anakin had learned much, seen a lot, since he had began his training, but there were still nine years of knowing nothing to make up for. 

“It’s a large, aquatic creature… Never mind, really, I just mean you won’t say that when I get huge.” Obi-Wan kissed the base of Anakin’s neck, and felt the vibration when his padawan scoffed.

“Don’t say that, Master. I’ll always think you’re beautiful. Besides, you won’t be fat, you’ll be carrying our child,” Anakin nuzzled his nose in Obi-Wan’s golden hair and Obi-Wan could feel him smile. 

Obi-Wan didn’t reply, as there wasn’t much to say, and he wondered if Anakin would have the same glowing positivity about pregnancy if  _ he  _ were the one who had to get fat. Anakin would get to keep his body and everything that came with it, such as the loss of mobility,  _ morning sickness _ , not being able to even get a drink at the bar during a mission. Anakin didn’t have to give up anything. Not if he didn’t want to. 

They laid together in the embrace for an undefinable period, and though Obi-Wan was tired, he could feel Anakin’s vibrant, yet contented, Force signature and knew that he was wide awake. Their legs were tangled together and his hand was resting on Anakin’s smooth chest, occasionally thumping along to the beat of his heart gently. 

“You know, I would never hold it against you if you chose to continue training Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan murmured, tracing a loving pattern on Anakin’s chest. It was delayed, but it had been marinating in the back of his mind ever since Anakin had gushed about how well Ahsoka was doing to the Council. 

Anakin furrowed his brow, Obi-Wan couldn’t see it but he could feel Anakin’s force signature curl in confusion. “I cannot, Master. Only Jedi Masters can train padawans.”

“You are a Jedi Master, Anakin. You can continue to be one.”

Anakin’s face and force signature contorted even more in confusion. “Not once the Council discovers that I am to be a father.”

The only response that Obi-Wan gave was silence, and Anakin exploded, untangling their limbs so he could sit up on the bed and glare at his master. Obi-Wan had the decency to look a little sheepish, though he held strong to his resolve. 

“I cannot believe that we’re having this conversation again!” Anakin yelled, throwing his hands up in a fit of frustration. It had been a few weeks since Anakin had declared his love and devotion to Obi-Wan, and they had more or less agreed that they would embark on parenthood together. Sure, Obi-Wan had not seemed as enthusiastic as Anakin, but he hadn’t thought that his Jedi Master would try to dissuade him once more. At this point, Anakin had half a mind to think that Obi-Wan didn’t want to raise children with him. The thought caused tendrils of anger to tickle the inside of Anakin’s ribcage. 

“You’re a  _ Jedi _ , Anakin.  _ The chosen one _ . Please, please don’t throw that away,” Obi-Wan pleaded, following in suit and sitting up, but not before tugging the blanket around his shoulders. Already he was feeling a little self-conscious about his body. It was barely noticeable, and he could easily hide it with tunics and robes, but he had a small baby bump. 

“I can’t believe this!” Anakin responded, still verging on shouting, and his disbelief rang out and echoed off the walls of their quarters. “I love you, I  _ love you _ , how can you not understand that?”

“I do. I do understand it, Anakin. And you know I love you just as much,” Obi-Wan said, voice softening a little at the admission. As much as he did love Anakin, he was still unused to saying the words. “This isn’t about me, though. This isn’t even about you. This is about the Force, the Jedi path…” 

Anakin reached a hand out to touch Obi-Wan’s stomach and Obi-Wan reflexively flinched away. The anger and hurt flooded Anakin’s eyes in the form of unshed tears and Obi-Wan cursed himself inwardly. It hadn’t been meant as anything against Anakin, he was still just so uncomfortable with the pregnancy himself, it was reflexive to not want attention drawn to it. 

“It’s my child, too, Obi-Wan!” Anakin yelled, and the tears in his eyes were threatening to spill. Obi-Wan wanted to lick them away. “You think I could ever live with myself, ever look in a mirror again, sit in that _room_ during Council meetings, if I left not only you, but my _child?_ My own flesh and blood? How could I?” 

Obi-Wan hung his head. He didn’t know the answer to that question, and part of him wanted to shout back that at least Anakin had a choice, at least he could stay or leave as he pleased. Obi-Wan had no choice. “And how could I live with  _ myself, _ knowing that I stood in the way of your destiny? Knowing that I turned your dream into a nightmare?” Now Anakin’s eyes weren’t the only ones with tears in them. 

Anakin scoffed at this, and it wasn’t the reaction that Obi-Wan had expected from him. He blinked watery eyes and looked over at his padawan. “Being a Jedi? You think that was my dream?”

Obi-Wan blinked again. 

“Being a Jedi was never my dream, Obi-Wan. Maybe it was on some Tuesday of some month in some year. I was a child, I had many dreams. Jedi, pirate, starship captain, reigning podracing champion--all those dreams were the same to me. My only constant dream was to own myself, to have freedom, to get my mother away from that terrible place and the terrible work--to get her a beautiful home, and a well-cooked meal, so that maybe she would stop crying at night.” Anakin’s words bit into the silence of the room, and left it stinging when he paused. “Do you know how I joined The Order?” Anakin didn’t wait for a response before continuing, “I’ve never forgotten. My mother asked your master, Qui-Gon, if he would take me away, if I would become a Jedi. She’d always known I was Force sensitive, my entire life, known I was worth more than what the  _ slave owners would pay for me _ . He said yes, and that was all. My entire life, decided right then. I was nine years old. Qui-Gon told me that Jedi training was difficult. That it would be a hard life.” Anakin paused, and Obi-Wan watched in horror as a tear slid down his cheek, and Anakin spoke in a strained voice, saying the words that he’d hid behind tantrums, anger, resentment, the word he’d never said before. “I saw a magic man, with a sword made out of light and a starship. I was a  _ slave  _ on a world made of  _ dust _ . What was I going to say?  _ No? _ ” 

“Anakin--”

“Obi-Wan, I know I’m  _ The Chosen One _ , I know what I am, but don’t,  _ I can’t _ \--”

“ _ Anakin _ ,” Obi-Wan managed to cut Anakin off, and Anakin realised that his tears weren’t the only ones that had fallen. “Just come here.” 

Anakin obliged and closed the distance between them, clambering into Obi-Wan’s lap, careful not to put too much pressure on Obi-Wan’s stomach. Obi-Wan’s strong arms wrapped around him and held him tight, and Anakin melted into the embrace, letting his head droop to rest on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. It didn’t matter how old he got, didn’t matter that he was a Jedi Master now and no longer a padawan learner, Obi-Wan would always make him feel safe. 

Obi-Wan didn’t say anything, but his fingers pressed against Anakin’s bare back, and they said sorry in a way that his mouth never could.

“Master,” Anakin mumbled, “don’t misunderstand--I have loved being a Jedi, even when it’s been a hard, thankless task. I am thankful for the time that I have spent, serving the Force and helping the galaxy. I have been who I have supposed to have been. But being a Jedi was not my dream. It was _yours_. And I know you don’t know who you’ll be when you aren’t one, _I know_ , and I’m _so_ _sorry_ , I would bear this burden for you if I could. I would resign, and I would let you keep your seat. You are my master and I love you. But I know who I’ll be when I’m no longer a Jedi. And I know that I’ll still be with you.” 

Obi-Wan didn’t reply for the longest time, and Anakin sighed. Maybe they would just never be able to end this conversation. However, after an eternity of silence aside from their breathing, Obi-Wan grabbed his wrist. Anakin jolted slightly, but allowed Obi-Wan to guide his hand. He brought it to rest on his stomach, and Anakin pulled back enough to gaze at Obi-Wan with questioning, damp eyes. 

“It is your child, too, Anakin. Let us hope it is more of your flesh and blood than it is of mine, because if it is even one hundredth the man you are, then I will be the luckiest, and proudest, father in the galaxy.”

“ _ Obi-Wan _ …”

“You’re a much better man than I am, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, letting his thumb brush repetitively over Anakin’s wrist. “But I like to think that you have made me a better one.” He glanced down at Anakin’s lithe hand resting gently on his bump, and the barest of smiles spread across his mouth. It didn’t match his sad eyes, and Anakin was unsettled. “You’re right. I have been projecting my own insecurities onto you. It was my dream to be a Jedi, and I never imagined there would be any dreams after that for me. I never saw the appeal of domesticity, I never knew why my father never chose the path of the Jedi. I never understood why any Force sensitive person would give up the chance to be the kind of great Jedi that I’d heard about growing up. I became a Jedi out of choice. My whole life, I’ve never had anything but choices. This is the first time that I’ve not had a choice. It has made me forget that you have never had any choices, and this is the first time that you are making one.”

Anakin’s bottom lip quivered, and his hand that wasn’t on Obi-Wan’s stomach moved to clutch at Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Obi-Wan used his free hand to gently rake down Anakin’s back, with soft, soothing touches. 

“I don’t know how to be happy about this. I feel like a foreigner in my own body, and it is my dream that has turned into a nightmare,” Obi-Wan admitted, and these were the words that he promised never to say to Anakin, but allowing them to float in the limbo between them was even worse. “But...if you will be patient with me, my young padawan, if you will forgive me when I lose myself, then maybe, one day, I can...dream a new dream.” 

Obi-Wan cleared his throat--damn it, why did opening up about his feelings still make him so nervous?--and then Anakin was kissing him and tangling both of his hands in his hair. “You’d make any nightmare feel like a dream.” Anakin murmured heatedly against Obi-Wan’s mouth.

It was  _ awfully _ cheesy, and Obi-Wan harrumphed just a little into the kiss, but Anakin was very sweet and it didn’t hurt that he was snaking his hand back into Obi-Wan’s pants. Nobody did kiss and make up quite like Anakin. 

Obi-Wan rolled them over so that Anakin was pinned to the mattress, partly just enjoying the agility while he still had it and partly just enjoying how Anakin’s gangly limbs looked sprawled across the sheets. They continued to kiss heatedly, and Anakin brought one leg up to drape over Obi-Wan’s hip, pulling him closer, before letting it flop back on the bed. 

“Can you fuck my face?” Anakin asked breathlessly, wetting his already spit-slicked, slightly swollen, lips for emphasis. 

He didn’t need to ask twice. Obi-Wan wasted no time ridding himself of his pants, and as he gazed down at his padawan, lying and waiting for him with his mouth open, he was aware that anyone would be a fool not to dream of this. 

Obi-Wan was glad he didn’t have to merely dream of it. 

.

.

“We must act now. If we lose General Grievous’s location again, who knows when we’ll find it, again.”

Obi-Wan nodded in agreement to Master Windu, sitting in his chair with straight posture. He could feel the baby kick occasionally, and he had to steele his facial expressions, keeping his eyes blank and mouth in a line, except for when he was spoken to. Anakin was sitting at his side, and Master Yoda was sitting at the head of the table, mostly listening to them discuss the best way to track down Grievous. Chancellor Palpatine had convened the Council not long after confiding in Anakin, to tell them that the Clones had managed to hone in on General Grievous’s location, he was hiding out on Utapaun, and he not only had droids, sources said, but had Utapaunian Separatist recruits working the base as well. Obi-Wan had been  _ promised _ , for lack of a better word, the mission to apprehend General Grievous since he and Anakin had failed to the last time they confronted him, but Anakin had insisted he sit in on the meeting, and everyone at the table knew he was going to try and insist on going on the mission with Obi-Wan, they were simply biding their time until he made the request. Or  _ demand,  _ depending on how it was received. 

“Does it not strike anyone as odd that the Clones were able to locate General Grievous, when all of the High Council could not?” Obi-Wan asked, and he felt Anakin tense up next to him but didn’t understand why.

Master Windu furrowed his brow and considered Obi-Wan’s words. “What are you suggesting, Master Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Nothing, I have nothing to suggest. It’s just a question.”

“The Clones have more manpower than we do, there are so many of them and they haven’t been dispatched all over the galaxy as we have been the past couple weeks. Besides, what ulterior motives could they have? They’re  _ clones _ , surely you don’t think this is a  _ trap _ .”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Not on our side, but on Grievous’s maybe. I will accept Captain Cody’s escort to Utapaun, but I think that for discretion sake, I should go in alone.” 

“Agreed,” Master Windu replied, and  _ 3, 2, 1-- _

“Let  _ me _ go with Master Kenobi,” Anakin interjected, hands bracing on the sides of his seat to keep himself from bolting upright. “I will be far more conspicuous than a Clone army, but he needs backup. General Grievous’s base isn’t the kind of place anyone should go into alone, as skilled a knight as Obi-Wan is.”

“Anakin,  _ you  _ are needed here--”

“ _ I’m not _ ,” Anakin retorted a fought not to reach over and grasp ahold of Obi-Wan’s arm.  _ Can’t let him out of my sight. I can’t let _ **_them_ ** _ out of my sight.  _ “Chancellor Palpatine would be all too happy if I went on the mission, and Ahsoka can manage without me for a few days. I will assign her to fill in for me at the Senate for the time being.” 

“Master Skywalker--”

“Master Yoda,” Anakin overrode, moving his hands to clutch at the table instead of the chair, “Please, assign me to this mission with Obi-Wan. With the two of us there, the chances of taking out Grievous will only increase.” 

Yoda mused. “What think you of this, Master Kenobi?” 

Obi-Wan bristled a little. What kind of question was that? Was there ever a time he didn’t want Anakin on a mission with him? Unless he was trying to keep him safe--but they had escaped Grievous’s clutches once, and he didn’t doubt their ability to do so again. “It never hurts to have two Jedi on such an important mission. Besides, it goes without saying I think, that Anakin and I have a very successful turnout rate when it comes to working together.” Obi-Wan didn’t miss the smirk that pasted itself onto Anakin’s face at his words, and he fought against the urge to kick his former-padawan under the table. 

There was silence in the room for a few moments, Master Yoda’s eyes were closed and Master Windu’s roamed back and forth between Obi-Wan and Anakin, as if he was determined that they had something up their sleeves. Finally, Yoda’s eyes opened and he nodded. “Anakin, go with Obi-Wan, you will.” 

Anakin barely hid his relieved exhale at those words, and nodded, a little too enthusiastically. “We won’t let Grievous get away this time, Master Yoda,” he assured, and the noise that Yoda made didn’t sound as if  _ he  _ were all that reassured, but Anakin felt confident about it.

“We’ll assign Captain Cody to fly you to Utapaun. Your mission is to apprehend General Grievous  _ at all costs _ , understood?” Jedi Code for  _ go in for the kill _ . Obi-Wan and Anakin nodded. “As soon as you get back, Anakin, you’ll be keeping an even closer eye on the Chancellor. We have no confirmed suspicions yet, but he’s almost certainly up to something. You’ll need to figure out what. Is that understood?” 

Anakin nodded, and he hoped that the brief wave of nausea he felt didn’t make itself apparent on his face. Obi-Wan nodded as well, though the instruction didn’t entirely apply to him, and said a few more things that Anakin only halfway paid attention to. He waited for Obi-Wan’s cue, then stood when he stood and followed him from the meeting room with the slightest nod to Master Yoda and Master Windu.

“--Utapaunian recruits. Anakin? Anakin, are you listening to me?”

Anakin blinked, and looked over at Obi-Wan as they made their way down the hallway, Obi-Wan’s slow, controlled pace making Anakin restless as he struggled to shorten his strides. Anxious. He’d only heard about every other word of what Obi-Wan was saying, something about Utapaunian Separatist recruits working for Grievous, a threat to them as well as the whole of Utapaun. He shook his head and looked away from Obi-Wan. “Yes, sorry, Master. It shouldn’t be any worse than Grievous’s droid army, should it?” he replied, looking down at his feet for a moment or two.

“Theoretically no,” Obi-Wan replied curtly, his eyes tracking Anakin’s fidgety, almost erratic movements carefully. “Anakin, are--”

“Yes, I’m  _ listening _ , Master--”

“ _ Are you  _ avoiding the Chancellor?” Obi-Wan asked, and it came so out of left field that Anakin actually quit walking out of surprise. Obi-Wan stopped as well and moved to stand in front of him, since the hallway was empty sans for them. 

“What? Avoiding the Chancellor? Why would I be doing that?” 

_ It’s not the kind of story a Jedi would tell you _ . 

Anakin’s nausea had returned full-force and he fought against his impulse to toe at the floor, his eyes gazing up into Obi-Wan’s with a frightful intensity that Obi-Wan couldn’t quite place. “Why would I be avoiding the Chancellor? Why would you ask me that, Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan blinked. “When was the last time you went over to meet with him? It’s been nearly a week, hasn’t it? You almost never go that long, unless you’re away on a mission. And you were  _ awfully  _ insistent on coming to Utapaun, you know that Master Windu, and the rest of the Council, wants you to stay close to Chancellor Palpatine, especially in these times--”

“You’re  _ pregnant _ **_,_ ** Obi-Wan--”

“ _ Anakin, keep your voice down--! _ ”

“Is it really  _ so hard  _ to believe that I don’t want to let my other-half and my  _ child _ go so far away from me? Especially when it’s to face  _ Grievous _ , one of the most dangerous Separatist generals out there, who also happens to harbour a  _ personal grudge  _ against us?” Anakin stared at Obi-Wan in disbelief, but he still felt sick to his stomach. “ _ Of course  _ I’m insistent on going with you, you know I’d rather you didn’t go at all.”

“And you know that’s not an option,” Obi-Wan shot back unnecessarily, and almost immediately regretted it when he saw Anakin seethe. 

“ _ I know _ , that’s why I at least want to go with you. It has nothing to do with the Chancellor.” 

It was a lie, but not so much to Obi-Wan as it was to himself. Since his meeting with Chancellor Palpatine a few weeks prior, Anakin had gotten the strangest feeling of uneasiness when the Chancellor was mentioned. The myth of Darth Plagueis seemed to run through his head on endless loop, and the few times he had met with Palpatine since then, he thought that he would catch just the slightest of smirks on Palpatine’s face, as if he knew that he was thinking of it,  as if he knew that Anakin could hardly think of anything else. But then he would blink, and the smirk would be gone, and Anakin would convince himself that he was just getting too paranoid,  _ how would Palpatine possibly know?  _ Even if Palpatine suspected about his relationship with Obi-Wan, how could he _ possibly _ know about the nightmares? There was no way he could know about those, no matter what he suspected. If Anakin felt discomfited by him, he was clearly projecting. As much as Anakin knew that wasn’t true, as much as he knew that his own instincts wouldn’t betray him in such a way, he continued to ignore the nagging discomfort in the back of his mind, continued to tell himself that he was reading into it too much. 

_ Well, clearly not from a Jedi.  _

It almost worked. 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, more gently, reaching out a hand to graze against Anakin’s upper arm. Anakin glanced down at the touch, and while he didn’t pull away from it, he wasn’t particularly reciprocative either. Obi-Wan frowned, unsure of what he had said to upset Anakin so. Not that it took much. “I just thought that maybe you were uncomfortable with the idea of spying on Chancellor Palpatine. You know that’s what the Council wants from you, they want an ear to the Chancellor’s personal affairs, and I thought perhaps you felt as though you would be betraying the Chancellor’s trust, I know that you look up to him--” 

“I’ll do what I must do, Master,” Anakin interrupted abruptly, and then he surged forward and kissed Obi-Wan square on the mouth.

Obi-Wan was blindsided and made a soft noise of protest, but his hand came up to fist in the front of Anakin’s robes anyway, opening his mouth and letting Anakin nip at his bottom lip, just moaning in response. 

Anakin pulled away from the kiss just as abruptly and said, “I have to go. I need to give Ahsoka instruction for while I’m gone.” He leaned back in and gave Obi-Wan two more firm kisses on the mouth, before stepping completely back. 

Obi-Wan didn’t want him to go, but he couldn’t think of a good reason why, so he just nodded and watched him leave. He dismissed any unease on his hormonal mood swings, and with a gentle pat to his cloaked baby bump in the deserted hallway, he headed off to go read up on Utapaun. He didn’t want any surprises, not this time. 

.

By the time that he met up with Anakin on the tarmac, the moment to press his padawan for answers concerning his odd behaviour had passed. He was all business, though he did greet Obi-Wan with a smile in his eyes and the slightest brush of the backs of their hands. Though Obi-Wan didn’t mean to undermine Anakin’s feelings, it could be difficult sometimes, to take every single one of Anakin’s outbursts seriously. Anakin often seemed to cycle through twelve emotions at a time, in one hour, and that was on a good day. Though once upon a time, Anakin’s moodiness had discomfited Obi-Wan, annoyed him even, now it was just one of the things that the’d grown to accept and love about Anakin. He experienced more emotions in five minutes than Obi-Wan often did in an entire week. That passion, expressiveness--what Obi-Wan once had thought nothing but sheer teen moodiness--was something that he needed to balance out his own indifference. Just another way that Anakin complimented him. 

Not unusually, Obi-Wan felt a huge swell of affection for his counterpart, and he longed to cross the deck of the ship and wrap his arms around Anakin’s waist and tug him in close for the remainder of the flight. However, while he was fairly certain that Commander Cody wouldn’t snitch on them were he to oversee their intimacy, Obi-Wan still didn’t want to put him in that position. It was unprofessional, in addition to violating the Jedi Code. He did move over to stand next to Anakin though, letting their shoulders brush against one another. Anakin glanced at him with a fairly neutral expression, though Obi-Wan could see the comfortable smile in Anakin’s eyes. They stood quietly for a while, just enjoying one another’s close proximities and allowing their Force signatures to entangle. Obi-Wan could feel Anakin’s Force signature coil around the baby’s every once and a while, and it made him nearly cringe every time. He was still so intertwined with its Force signature, it was impossible for him not to feel. It seemed to keep Anakin complacent though, so Obi-Wan tried to stay relaxed. 

The flight wasn’t all that long in the grand scheme of things, and soon enough, the landing dock that protruded from a large landstone wall came into view. That’s when Obi-Wan turned to Anakin and quietly murmured, “Do you know much about Utapaun?” 

Anakin shook his head. “No. Do you, Master?” 

Obi-Wan shook his head also. “There’s not much to know. Despite outward appearance, it’s not a true desert planet. They have an underground ocean, that keeps water supplies plentiful. This is a distinct advantage for building a base here. However, the Utapaunians have little in the way of advanced technology. Their energy comes solely from wind power. They only recently began participating in interstellar trade and mining, so the planet is still relatively poor. There are two native species--the Ancients, who have denied all knowledge of Grievous being here, and the Utai. They have also denied knowledge, but it has been heavily rumoured that they have joined forces with Grievous and his combat droids. It makes sense, as they might have a more comprehensive knowledge of the planet.” 

Anakin nodded as he took in everything that Obi-Wan had said. So, a droid army and the possibility of separatist recruits. Far from the  _ worst _ thing that they’d ever faced. Between the two of them, they’d taken down  _ two _ Sith Lords. They could take down Grievous, if he were actually still there. 

“And Grievous is here,” Obi-Wan added, and Anakin wasn’t sure if he’d picked up on his errant thought, or if he’d intended to say that either way. “I can feel that. Utapaun is a place for endings, one way or another.” 

The words, especially the last four, put an icy lump in Anakin’s stomach and he fully turned to Obi-Wan,  _ don’t say that, Master.  _ But before he could say anything, Commander Cody had interrupted them. 

“Thirty seconds to landing, Generals.” 

They were planning on going in alone--the fifth millionth part of the plan that made Anakin beyond relieved that the Council had permitted him to go with Obi-Wan--where they would serve as a distraction until the Clones could move in to attack. Hopefully they would be able to apprehend Grievous on their own, and simply leave the battle droids to the Clones, but if not, then they would stay in the direct line of fire until Grievous  _ was  _ apprehended. 

Obi-Wan gently nudged Anakin toward the starfighter that they would be taking, Anakin wordlessly rounding to the pilot’s seat and Obi-Wan making no protest as he headed to the co-pilot’s seat. “We can keep them distracted for quite some time,” Obi-Wan assured Commander Cody as he reflexively checked Anakin safety belt, a lingering habit from the days of Anakin’s childhood that Anakin never called him out on. “Just don’t take too long.”

“Come on, General,” Commander Cody shot back with a light smile, “Have I ever let you down before?”

“Well, Cato Neimoidia, for starters…” Obi-Wan teased back with a smile. The lighthearted banter didn’t quite lighten the mood, but it was a good token effort. 

“That was General Skywalker’s fault; he was the one who was late…” Commander Cody shot Anakin a soft smile to let him know that he was only teasing, though Anakin still scowled.   
“ _Hey!_ ”

Obi-Wan overrode Anakin’s indignation, and quirked an eyebrow. “Oh? And who will you blame it on  _ this  _ time?” 

“Probably me again,” Anakin grumbled, as Obi-Wan clambered into the starfighter next to him, a hand gently on his shoulder.

Obi-Wan actually laughed at that, calling back, “We’ll try not to destroy all the droids before you get there.”

“I’m counting on you, Generals. Don’t let me down.” 

“Have we ever?” Obi-Wan replied innocently, watching passively as Anakin flipped the controls to engage the engines. 

“Well, there  _ was _ Cato Neimoidia…” 

Obi-Wan laughed at that, even if his mirth didn’t quite meet his eyes, and with that they were off. The take off was a bit abrupt, still skillful and easy, but as someone who flew with Anakin frequently, more than frequently, Obi-Wan could tell that he was tense. 

The landing required very little co-piloting, Obi-Wan mostly sat alert in his seat and watching as Anakin settled the starfighter on the landing deck, then released the cockpit. A group of Utai were already approaching them, as was an Ancient, presumably there to greet them. Rather quickly, Obi-Wan thought, almost as if they had been expecting them. It wasn’t the note that Obi-Wan would’ve liked to start off on, but he climbed out of the cockpit anyway, jumping to the ground and trying to ignore the slight discomfort that came with such movements nowadays. 

Anakin looked even more suspicious than Obi-Wan felt, and Obi-Wan sent out a gentle tendril of the Force to let him know that their situation wasn’t hostile. Not for the time being at least. If the Utai were with the Ancients, there was a good possibility that the rumour had been wrong, that the Utai were not recruited by Grievous. 

Almost shoulder to shoulder, Obi-Wan and Anakin approached the Ancient, who just barely tilted its head forward from the confines of a high maroon collar. 

“Greetings, young Jedis,” the Ancient said gravely, “I am Tion Medon, master of port administration for this place of peace. What business could bring Jedis to our remote sanctuary?” 

Practically every word in that sentence roused suspicion, but Obi-Wan could sense no actual malice in the Ancient, so with a glance to Anakin, he opted for telling the truth. “Our business is war.” 

“There is no war here, unless you have brought it with you.” 

Obi-Wan glanced at Anakin again, before continuing. “Very well, then,” he agreed, voice smooth and easy, as though he believed that wholeheartedly, “Please permit us to refuel here, and to use your city as a base to search the surround system.” 

“For what do you search?”

Anakin had been content being quiet and allowing Obi-Wan to do the talking, but as usual, he had his breaking point. He burst forward, just short of accusatory. “Even in the Outer Rim, you must have heard of  _ General Grievous _ . We are seeking him, and his  _ army _ of droids.” 

Anakin’s nearly aggressive words made the Ancient pale a little, and Obi-Wan might’ve been admonishing at such forwardness, except the Ancient leaned in closer to them and murmured, “ _ He is here. _ We are hostages--we are being  _ watched! _ ” 

Neither Obi-Wan or Anakin reacted outwardly, both just nodding. “Thank you, Master Medon. We are grateful for your hospitality, and will depart as soon as your crew refuels our starfighter.” 

“Listen to me, young Jedis!” The Ancient may have sounded angry, had it not sounded so frightened. An odd tone for something so ancient, so wise. Anakin found it unsettling. It would be like watching Yoda have a panic attack--it seemed unnatural. “You must depart in _ truth!  _ I was  _ ordered  _ to reveal General Grievous’s presence--this is a trap!” 

“Of course it is,” Anakin replied, almost cheerfully. It would have seemed even more eerie if Grievous weren’t planning a trap for them. 

“The tenth level--thousands of war droids-- _ tens _ of thousands--” 

“Have your people seek shelter,” Obi-Wan advised casually, turning in-sync with Anakin to head back to their starfighter. The sound of the Ancient’s voice trailed after them, and eventually made them stop in their tracks. 

“It’s not safe here. It is dangerous, young Jedis. It is no place for a  _ Carrier _ ,” the Ancient warned, just short of threatening, but not quite to caring either. 

Obi-Wan froze, literally and physically, and he could feel Anakin’s Force spike, a protective Force tendril shooting out toward him.  _ Someone else should have come, we shouldn’t have taken this, there are other Jedi… _

“Jedis are not the only creatures with perception, Master,” The Ancient added, and with that, Obi-Wan squared his shoulders and didn’t dignify it with a response.   
“We need to send the ship back, to avoid suspicious, if we are even to hope of gaining the upperhand,” Obi-Wan told Anakin, holding his hand out to liven the astromech. Anakin nodded in response, gesturing for him to do it. “Genine, take our starfighter back to the _Vigilance_. Instruct Commander Cody to inform Jedi Command on Coruscant that we have made contact with General Grievous. We are engaging now. Commander Cody is to attack in full force as planned.” 

The astromech beeped in response, and Obi-Wan exchanged small nods with Anakin before moving away, to address the Ancient, though still not about the accusation that they had made. “Tell them we promised to file a report with Republic Intelligence. Them them we really only wanted fuel enough to leave immediately.” Obi-Wan instructed. There wasn’t a high chance that Grievous would believe such a thing, but it was worth a try before they walked into his trap gladly. 

“But...but what will you  _ do? _ ” 

Anakin fixed the Ancient with a grim smile. “If your people have warriors, now is the time.” he replied gravely before following Obi-Wan away from the landing pad and to seek another means of transportation to get to Grievous’s base. 

.

When seeking transportation, Anakin had assumed that they would find an air taxi or perhaps even just a smaller, nondescript ship. 

“You have  _ got  _ to be kriffing kidding me,” Anakin muttered as he stared at the sight before him. Well, he wasn’t entirely sure  _ what  _ the sight before him was. A stables of sorts, filled with creatures that Anakin had never seen before. They reminded him vaguely of the Suubatars, large subterranean creatures that he and Obi-Wan had used on a mission a while back, before the war had even began. They were a bit larger than that, and a lot more... _ scaly _ . Clearly they had been adapted for rock scaling and mountainous terrain, and they looked a bit like a cross between Tatooine krayt dragons and Haruun Kal ankkoxen for a lack of a better description. They were docile enough in behaviour, at least in the way that they kindly interacted with their Utai caregivers, who were currently washing them off and feeding them. However, they were still large and fearsome looking and had five-clawed feet, and Anakin would’ve just as soon pulled out his lightsaber on one as he would have touched one on the nose as Obi-Wan was doing. 

“We need transportation,” Obi-Wan explained, gesturing to himself and Anakin, then the two dragonmounts with the best life forces, to the nearest Utai, who didn’t seem to understand Basic, but did understand Obi-Wan’s gesturing toward the saddles. “Get us saddles, please.” 

“ _ Obi-Wan _ \--” Anakin was very nearly whining and it made Obi-Wan smile. 

Anakin _hated_ living mounts, almost as much as Obi-Wan hated to fly. Every time they were forced to use creatures as transportation, a scowl permanently pasted itself on Anakin’s plush mouth, and an endless stream of complaining came falling from those lips as Anakin got on his mount. With a tasteless smirk, Obi-Wan felt a flicker of pride at being the only _living_ _mount_ that Anakin enjoyed. He might have said so in a different context, but the threat of Grievous was just a little too looming to attempt such flirtations. Still, he couldn’t resist from teasing Anakin a little bit. Even in the most daunting of missions, he always seemed to find time to do that. 

“We need transportation, Anakin,” Obi-Wan teased, holding out a hand toward the two dragonmounts, who blinked placidly at him. Their Force conveyed deep levels of loyalty, one of the main reasons that Obi-Wan would always prefer living mounts over ships. Their starfighter had no ability to be loyal or to care if it crashed. At least living mounts had a sense of self-preservation, if not loyalty. 

Still, Anakin’s frown remained firmly in place, and it pulled a soft laugh from Obi-Wan’s chest. Impulsively, he closed the distance between them and kissed Anakin square on the mouth. Anakin was no less than  _ shocked _ , sputtering slightly before his hands rose to grip at Obi-Wan’s shoulders and pull him closer, into a deeper kiss. Obi-Wan  _ never _ kissed him on missions. As a matter of fact, Obi-Wan hadn’t kissed him during a mission since their  _ first  _ kiss. Even when they were alone and there was no one around--Anakin understood, though he would’ve happily accepted kisses if Obi-Wan were giving them out, it wasn’t the right headspace to be in during missions. 

The kiss was passionate, and a little disconcerting if Anakin were honest. Obi-Wan’s hormones must have been  _ really  _ out of whack. Either that, or he didn’t have as optimistic of an outlook on their showdown with Grievous as he had been letting on. Anakin would vastly prefer the first option. 

They kept kissing until the Utai returned with two saddles, and let out a string of unintelligible noises, the native language, that neither Obi-Wan or Anakin knew a single syllable of. Still, the Utai’s tone sounded more inquisitive than angry, so presumably they hadn’t offended any local customs by kissing in public, and simply sheepishly broke apart. 

“We’ll take these two,” Obi-Wan gestured to the two dragonmounts he had picked out, and watched as the Utai moved to quickly saddle the two beasts. 

When the two creatures were saddled and ready to go, Anakin and Obi-Wan didn’t miss a beat mounting them, though Obi-Wan heard Anakin’s quiet grumbling beneath his breath, especially as the dragonmount rose to full height, lifting him higher up off the ground, and it made him smile again. 

“We cannot pay you,” Obi-Wan said to the Utai, who didn’t understand a word that he said, “As compensation, we can only offer the freedom of your planet. I hope that will suffice.” 

Anakin rolled his eyes at Obi-Wan’s pointless overture, but was soon distracted as he stroked the curve of his dragonmount’s neck and was sent off in a highspeed trot, straight toward the large sandstone wall. “Oof--!” Anakin glanced over at Obi-Wan who was barely even holding onto the reigns and glowered down at his own mount. It seemed to know where they wanted to go, they both did--which was just unnerving, Anakin resolved, it wasn’t unnerving at all for a speeder to know where you were going though--so Anakin tried to sit back, and allow his mount to do the work, rather than keeping a death grip on the reigns. 

The dragonmounts took no preamble, and sunk their clawed feet into the wall, heading a journey straight up the wall. This, Anakin did not enjoy. Obi-Wan glanced over at him, and Anakin tried not to give him the satisfaction of making his displeasure known. Still, he felt a curl of affection from Obi-Wan’s Force, and Anakin sent back an unfurling tendril of affection himself, to Obi-Wan, then to his womb. Their baby’s Force signature was calm, completely unaware that its carrier was currently scaling  a wall on the back of a large, scaled creature, preparing to fight one of the most loathsome Separatist figureheads there was. Maybe one day, they would tell their baby all about this moment, Obi-Wan would tell them all about their father’s  _ irrational  _ dislike for living mounts, and Anakin would say  _ you were there, you know _ , and then he and Obi-Wan would share a sweet look, maybe a quick kiss. One day that would be their lives. For now, Anakin knew they needed to focus on their mission. For now, their lives were stil that of the Jedi Path. 

With each level that they climbed up, the city grew more desolate. There wasn’t another sign of life until they reached the tenth level. There, they saw maybe seven or eight dragonmounts asleep in the sunlight, near the droid control center. This was where they needed to be. 

They rode up to the control center’s archway itself, then dismounted, Anakin more quickly than Obi-Wan. The dragonmounts were admittedly better than the  _ Banthas  _ they’d ridden before, but it still felt good to get the ground back under his own two feet. 

Obi-Wan held up a hand to tell Anakin to wait, peering through the archway. In the shadows, he could see a cluster of five, eerily white figures. Five droids. Waiting for them, just possibly. 

Obi-Wan’s hand skimmed the hilt of his lightsaber as he turned around, holding out a hand to gently touch the beaked nose of his dragonmount. “You’d best find your way home,” he gave a tilt of his head to indicate that Anakin should do the same with his own mount, “One way or another, I doubt I’ll have further need of your assistance.” 

Obi-Wan’s mount gave almost a sad honk of acknowledgement, and he patted its nose again, before he heard a distinct, “ _ Obi-Wan! _ ”

He turned to Anakin, expecting perhaps an admonishment over his pessimistic speech. Instead, he was greeted with the sight of Anakin’s dragonmount, with it’s nose pressed against Anakin’s chest, in an affectionate plea to stay. 

It was a humorous sight, Anakin looking just short of horrified as a rather large, scaly creature affectionately nuzzled against him, but Obi-Wan found that he had no desire to laugh. Instead, a just barely there smile etched its way onto his face. He always found himself hopelessly endeared by Anakin, he always had since Anakin was just a child. Besides, the beast wanting to stay with Anakin, well, Obi-Wan dared say that it was similar to how he felt when asked to leave Anakin. 

Obi-Wan approached the pair, to help Anakin dismiss the creature, and gently reached his hand out toward the creature, which responded affectionately to his touch as well. “It’s all right. We appreciate your help, but to stay here will be dangerous. This area is about to become a free-fire zone. Please. Go home.” 

Obi-Wan nodded toward Anakin, who go the hint and placed a hand on the creature’s beak and echoed Obi-Wan’s words, “Please, go home.” 

The creature gave a honk, then joined its counterpart, and the two scaled beasts began to make their way back toward the ledge, to climb back down the wall. Obi-Wan watched them go, a sense of melancholy settling in his chest. He’d had a bad feeling about this place since they’d landed, and he wondered if the feeling was shared by Anakin. From the way that Anakin looked at him, and from the way that he bothered to shield his Force signature, Obi-Wan could surmise that it was. 

Obi-Wan looked at his own counterpart, turning to face him, then giving an erstwhile glance in the direction their dragonmounts had gone. “You know, you can go too. Go back to the landing dock, back to the  _ Vigilance _ . There’s no sense in both of us walking into a trap.” Obi-Wan couldn’t keep the melancholy notes out of his voice, and Anakin looked at him, eyes burning with an intensity  that never really left. 

“And let you walk in there alone? Keep dreaming, Master.” Anakin wanted to kiss Obi-Wan then, but it was time for business, and they both knew it.

Obi-Wan wondered how he would feel if this was truly the time that he was going to bring his other half to demise, then tried to remind himself of what Qui-Gon had always told him, that the only thing that mattered was that he stayed in the moment. The moment was when the Force was strongest, not in the past and not in the future. 

So Obi-Wan gave Anakin a nod, then they moved from the sunlight and into the shadows. The hall was chilled, cast in shadows, and as they moved, they could faintly feel the the swirling of a dark ocean, the one beneath the surface of the planet, and the electro-buzzing that took place of thought in droids. It was nearly simultaneous that their Force reached for the vaulted ceiling in the hallway and became aware of the same fact. The vaults above their heads were actually storage units. Completely filled with battle droids. Anakin’s only reaction to this was to reach for his lightsaber, hand readily poised on the hilt of his lightsaber.

Obi-Wan tried to accept the fact that it was very likely they would die there. 

He glanced over at Anakin who was too busy feeling out the storage units to pay attention to him, and felt a strange sense of relief. He’d never known it--not until right now in that very moment--but he had always expected, for no discernable reason, that when he die, Anakin would be with him. 

He had never expected to be damning the unfulfilled life of a child with his death, though, and he knew that he would most likely be denied a Force ghost, for allowing his child to meet such an untimely death. If they died there, he would most likely never see Anakin again. That was his one stab of regret, as he contemplated their grim situation. 

_ I love you. I love you.  _

He wasn’t sure if Anakin heard his thoughts or not, felt them or not, but either way, it was time to get to business. 

“ _ Master, _ ” 

Anakin’s even, but urgent voice, got his attention, but it was not necessary. He could already feel Grievous’s presence, his Force radiating  from the other side of the arc at the end of the hallway. The droids that had clustered in the shadows spread out between them and Grievous, electrostaffs in hand, and he heard Anakin’s lightsaber come to life next to him with a gentle hum. 

Obi-Wan’s hand was still poised near his own, but for the time being he left is sheathed, as Grievous moved into their sight. 

“General Grievous,” Obi-Wan said evenly, “You’re under arrest.”  

Grievous made a noise close to laughing, with a look between Obi-Wan, who looked even and placid, and Anakin, who had his lightsaber bared and anger etched deeply on his face. “Kenobi. Don’t tell me, let me guess--this is the part where you give me the chance to surrender.” 

Anakin nearly growled, and Obi-Wan overrode him. “It can be. Or, if you like, it can be the part where I dismantle your exoskeleton and ship you back to Coruscant in a cargo hopper.” 

Grievous did laugh this time. “It’s sweet that you dragged your beloved padawan,  _ Skywalker _ along with you.”

The comment hit a little too close to home, and Obi-Wan’s grip tightened on his saber’s hilt. 

“I’ll take option three,” Grievous continued, lifting one metal hand up toward the ceiling, “That’s the one where I watch  _ both of you  _ die.” With another flick of his hand, the droids in the ceiling vaults hummed to life and Obi-Wan had his saber drawn, back pressed up against Anakin’s. He hadn’t moved, but Anakin had, to cover him presumably. There was little point, as hundreds upon hundreds of droids spilled from the ceiling vault, with mechanical hums and whirrings, some rolling to the floor to get to their feet, some simply dangling from wires and cords spilling from the ceiling like intestines. Within seconds, they were the focus of a dome of blasters. Neither reacted, aside from Anakin’s moving closer to Obi-Wan, and their eyes stayed trained on Grievous, despite the imminent threat from the droids. 

“I’m sorry, was I not clear?” Obi-Wan asked, tone even but firm, “ _ There is no option three _ .” Not if option three involved killing Anakin. Never if it involved that. 

Grievous’s amusement had been short lived, and he simply shook his head at Obi-Wan. “Do you never tire of your own pathetic banter?” 

Obi-Wan replied neutrally, “I rarely tire at all. And I have no better way to pass the time while I wait for you to either decide to surrender, or choose to die.” 

Obi-Wan’s cocky optimism, whether genuine or faked, was something that Anakin found incredibly hot. If they lived through this altercation, Obi-Wan was going to find himself with an armful of Jedi, while Anakin gave him the biggest kiss he could. For now, though, he would focus on all the droids that were slowly surrounding them.

“That choice was made long before I ever met  _ you _ ,” General Grievous replied dismissively, turning away with a flicker of his hand. “Kill them.” 

Those were the words that Anakin and Obi-Wan had been waiting to hear, yet hearing them seemed to jumpstart everything into motion. With the crackling of electrostaffs whirring to life, and a large surge of the Force, Obi-Wan and Anakin both almost simultaneously collapsed. Not a faint, but a fall calculated by the Force, turning into rolls that brought them both to their feet. Obi-Wan brought one of the droids to the ground with two calculated blows, and he could hear sparking and occasional swearing from where Anakin worked at fighting off the remaining three. Obi-Wan kept his saber poised, but it was no use, they stayed just out of reach behind their electrostaffs. Obi-Wan glanced upward, to an empty droid socket in the now open ceiling vault. With a glance and a nonverbal  _ hold them off  _ directed at Anakin, he propelled himself up to the vault with a combination of the Force and leverage from the nearby droid parts on the floor, managing to slip up into the vault. With a quick glance around, balancing atop a beam, he eyed the structure in front of him, until he spotted the support beam.  _ Anakin, watch your head _ , he sent nonverbally, and when he saw Anakin glance upward, he brought his saber down against the steel support beam, watching the durasteel melt white when his saber went through it. The rather large cargo container that the beams had been supporting went crashing down with a hideous shriek of metal and Anakin rolled back and out of the way before the durasteel came crashing down atop the three approaching droids. Obi-Wan hopped down onto the top of the durasteel box and glanced over at Anakin with a sardonic smile. “Four down. Only...ten thousand to go.”

Anakin smiled his own ironic smile in return, and then gestured hurriedly toward the open arc, which was still teeming with droids. “Go! Get Grievous--I’ll have your back, keep the droids at bay.” 

Obi-Wan snapped his attention to Anakin, blinking, and glancing at the arc again. “Are you sure?” 

_ So tell me, do you think that the Jedi Council has picked the right man for the job?  _

“Yes--yes, I’m sure! Grievous is yours, Master, just hurry up, I can’t hold them forever!” 

Obi-Wan only glanced at him for the briefest of seconds before catapulting through the arc and leaving Anakin to fight his way after him, but the affection in his blue eyes was unmistakable. Anakin watched him go, leaping from beam to beam, confusing droid fire and crashing down more durasteel upon the awaiting droid mob. Anakin felt something within him ache as he watched Obi-Wan rush headfirst into fire, not just him, but their unborn child as well. However, despite the heady ache, Anakin didn’t regret his words. What he regretted was not telling Chancellor Palpatine the same thing.  _ Of course  _ Obi-Wan Kenobi was the man for the job, he was the man for every job. Not only did Anakin love him, but he  _ trusted  _ Obi-Wan, trusted him to do his job right, trusted him to make the right calls. Anakin had always expected Obi-Wan to place undying trust in him, and he knew he needed to return the favour. Since this pregnancy had come to light, he had been suffocating Obi-Wan, he wanted to wrap him up so tightly that no harm could ever come to him. He still did. But Anakin also knew that he needed to let Obi-Wan get through this on his own. He was the one carrying their child, he was strong, and he could do it. And Anakin would always be right behind him. He pushed the unsettled feeling that had made its home in his chest the moment they landed on the planet away, because they would be just fine. They had to be. 

Obi-Wan had taken out about half the droids that separated them from Grievous, and Anakin easily fought his way through the remaining half, parting them with deft blows from his saber, and he managed to make it into the control room, where Obi-Wan was facing down Grievous. 

“ _ Keep firing! Blast him! _ ”

Anakin watched, in vague horror, as a cannon from a spider droid tracked Obi-Wan, but Obi-Wan seemed relatively unfazed, using the Force to gain momentum until he was able to leap away from the blast, only the fringes of it hitting him. Anakin watched long enough to see Obi-Wan go whirling downward, only to land directly in front of Grievous, poised in a lunge and lightsaber at the ready. The remaining droids were between where Anakin stood and where Obi-Wan and Grievous were, and true to his words, Anakin preoccupied the remaining droids, with a few swings of his lightsaber they were on him. 

“General,” Obi-Wan spoke just as blandly as he had from outside the arc, as though he weren’t currently engaging in a fight for his life. “My offer is still open.” 

Grievous glowered down at him, though all the droids on the upper deck had fallen silent, as blasting Obi-Wan could very possibly result in hitting Grievous by mistake. “Do you believe that I would surrender to you now.” 

Obi-Wan gave something akin to a shrug, then a nod. “I am still willing to take you alive. So far, no one has been hurt.” 

“You speak prematurely of your padawan’s wellbeing--” Grievous threatened with a wave of his hand to the lower deck where Anakin was still fighting droids. 

“It is not my padawan’s well being that you need be concerned with,” Obi-Wan replied coolly, at that point he almost meant it entirely.

“I have thousands of troops, Kenobi. You and Skywalker cannot defeat them all.” 

“We don’t have to.” 

Annoyed by Obi-Wan once more, Grievous replied, “This is your chance to surrender, General Kenobi. Pau City is in my grip; lay down your blade, or I will squeeze until this entire sinkhole brims over with innocent blood.” 

Obi-Wan blinked. “That’s not what it’s about to brim with. You should pay more attention to the weather, General?”  Noting the look of confusion on Grievous’s face, Obi-Wan gestured to the archway with his lightsaber. “Have a look outside, because it’s about to start raining clones.” 

Grievous turned to look this time, as something dark, like a cloud, was settling over Pau City. It wasn’t a cloud, though, it was the  _ Vigilance _ . It only took about 2.5 seconds for the droids to begin their fire, but the  _ Vigilance  _ had been prepared, immediately flipping sensors on to send the fire come raining back down, and around that time clones began to deploy. 

Grievous fixed Obi-Wan with an angry look, givin Obi-Wan a scathing and immediate, “To the death then.” 

Obi-Wan sighed. “Very well then.” 

His lightsaber lit up in his hand. 

While Anakin didn’t feel in any particular mortal danger while fighting the droids, they were  _ annoying  _ to say the least. He felt like no matter how many he cut through, there was another one to crop up and block his way from the upper deck. He could hear blows being traded, and that kept him calmed, even though he couldn’t see Obi-Wan and Grievous. Hearing the crashing blows, the occasional grunts from either side, Obi-Wan was still alive, he was still fighting. Anakin was on edge, blood pumping and heart pounding in his chest, and it had little to do with the fight that he was currently fighting. He’d agreed to let Obi-Wan take Grievous, but if he’d finished off the droids, left the rest to the Clones, and could help out a little...well, he should, right?

With a newfound resolution, Anakin flipped up to the upper deck, just barely landing on the edge, a reasonable distance away from where Obi-Wan and Grievous had made it to. Obi-Wan was lying on the ground, pinned by Grievous, who was missing half of two of his four arms. Obi-Wan’s  lightsaber was nowhere to be seen, it must have fallen from the upper deck at some point during their fighting, and a discarded, sparking electrostaff was lying a few feet away, what Obi-Wan must have been using during their fight.

“You don’t really think I’m stupid enough to give my droids something that could hurt me, do you?” Grievous growled, then drew back from the killing blow. 

Anakin lit his saber up resolutely, mouth narrowing into a thin line, and he charged forward, but was halted mid-run, as Obi-Wan used the Force to shoot a nearby baster into his hand. He rolled into Grievous, then nestled the barrel of the blazer in a chink in the bio-droid’s armour. “Yes. I do.” Obi-Wan replied, feeling just a little pleased with himself for getting the last word, then, definitively proving that he was the man for the job, he pulled the trigger. Grievous more or less exploded in bits of metal and greyish looking ooze and body parts, and Obi-Wan quickly scrambled out from under his deteriorating body, making it to his feet as the worst of it splattered against the ground. Obi-Wan looked down at the blaster in his hand, wrinkling his nose, then tossing it aside carelessly. “So uncivilized,” he sniffed. 

It was then that Anakin resumed his running, and when he made it to where Obi-Wan was, he nearly knocked him off his feet as he essentially jumped into his arms, planting a wet, sloppy kiss on his mouth, as the war between the clones and droids raged just outside. One of Anakin’s heels left the ground and he would’ve fallen over if Obi-Wan hadn’t wrapped strong arms around him to keep him stabilized. “Mmff--Anakin-- _ Anakin! _ ”

“I love you, I love you, _ I love you _ ,” Anakin punctuated each declaration with a kiss and Obi-Wan realized it was likely that Anakin had heard his Force earlier, and that that point all he could really do was kiss Anakin back. 

“I love you, too, Anakin,” Obi-Wan replied sincerely, giving Anakin a kiss of his own, before pulling back and resting his hands on Anakin’s shoulders. “Now let’s get out of here.” 

Anakin didn’t need to be told twice, and they both quickly ran from the upper deck, easily jumping down to the lower and picking through sparking droids as they made their way out from under the archway and back onto the open plateau. 

“Cody should be meeting us with the  _ Vigilance  _ back at the landing dock after they get this wrapped up. We just need to get back there--fuck!” Anakin had briefly forotten about the unsavoury location Grievous had chosen, and the straight up climb that it had been. “How are we going to--”

Before Anakin could finish, or Obi-Wan could think or respond, a loud honking caught their attention. Lo and behold, the two dragonmounts that they had sent back down the plateau stood before them, still saddled and ready to go. 

“See, a speeder would never do something like this.” Obi-Wan said, no short in wonderment. These truly were loyal creatures. 

“Yeah, yeah, well we never would’ve had to send a speeder away in the first place…” Anakin grumbled, though he still approached his mount, which honked at him happily. Obi-Wan’s honked, a little more indignantly, and Obi-Wan rolled his eyes affectionately.

“Yes, yes. You were right, I was wrong. Can we go now?” 

The dragonmounts both kneeled so that Anakin and Obi-Wan could swing up into their respective saddles, then wasted no time with their trek back down the wall, which Anakin decided was even more horrifying than the climb up. This time, instead of dropping them off near the stables, the dragonmounts dropped them off on the landing dock, which was still occupied by by Utai. Commander Cody wasn’t there yet, but that was fine, Obi-Wan decided. The worst of the mission was over for them, they’d made it out safely, despite all of his preconceived notions. Maybe he’d been mistaken and his strange Force feelings earlier had just meant he was paranoid or anxious. Now would be a good opportunity to talk to the planet’s natives and make sure everything was good before they took off. He and Anakin unmounted, and he patted both dragonmounts’ noses, telling them to get back home. This time they complied without complaint,  leaving with friendly sounding honks. He was turning back to the gathering handful Utai, prepared to enter full diplomat mode, when a shaky Force vibration came from Anakin. 

“Uhh...Master? I’m not so sure they want to talk.” 

That may have been an understatement, considering the Utai were all armed with the same electrostaffs that Grievous’s droids had been wielding, and were approaching menacingly, though Obi-Wan could tell from their rolling force signatures that they were a little bit fearful too. 

“Now hang on,” Obi-Wan tried to reason, still ever diplomatic and holding up his weaponless hands, “We don’t have to fight.” 

“I am deeply sorry Master Kenobi… But we do. Grievous will bleed our city dry if we let you leave.” the Ancient from earlier stepped forward, then, with a flicking hand toward the Utai, unleashed a small-scale fight. If The Ancient had waited just another moment, Obi-Wan could have interjected that Grievous wouldn’t be bleeding anyone, because Grievous was dead, but he couldn’t catch a breath before a Utai was swinging at him. Without his lightsaber, this proved to be more difficult, and he found himself adopting defensive measures against the Utai. It was only moments before Anakin had disarmed a Utai and knocked them unconscious, and called, “Master!” Obi-Wan’s hand shot up, and an electrostaff flew into it.

As he turned to debilitate the Utai that was attacking him, he called out, “We are only apprehending them, Anakin! They don’t understand!” None but the Ancients spoke Basic, so they could have tried to reason with the Utai all the live long day to no avail. As Anakin fought down the Utai, Obi-Wan tried to get to the Ancient. If he could speak reason to him, explain that Grievous was dead, maybe they could stop this pointless fighting. Obi-Wan knew that fear was a strong motivator, it was why he’d felt no fear facing down his own death--Jedis were taught to expunge all emotion, fear most of all. Anger was a dangerous emotion. Fear was more dangerous. Instill a person with fear, and there was no telling what they would do. 

Obi-Wan truck out the Utai with a non-fatal blow, then turned to get to the Ancient, who had adorned some heavy looking armour. It must have been enhanced, though, perhaps something Grievous had made for them, as their usually slow movements were enhanced, and they managed to land a blow easily against Obi-Wan’s electrostaff. Obi-Wan countered the blow, and shouted, “Listen to me! You have nothing to be afraid of!”

The Ancient shook their head from the confines of a tight, high collar, and swung again, missing Obi-Wan by a breadths width. “You don’t understand, General Kenobi! Would you stand by and allow your world to bleed dry?”

“Grievous is dead! We’ve killed him!” Obi-Wan shouted, and with a skillful blow, he knocked the electrostaff out of the ancient’s hand. He threw his to the side, as he had no intentions of landing any fatal blows to the ancient, and simply put his hands up. Though it wasn’t his greatest skill, his hand to hand combat was proficient, and sometimes he found it a bit cathartic. 

He saw a flicker of wonder, maybe doubt, in the ancient’s eyes, but it was no good. “I’m  _ sorry,  _ General Kenobi! I can’t allow you and Skywalker to leave here-- _ I can’t! _ ” 

And there it was. That  _ fear _ . Fear was a mind-killer. It was the little death that brought total obliteration. It brought the ancient’s hand up toward him in a last ditch effort to debilitate him, and Obi-Wan felt a great swell of pity for the creature in that moment. 

Obi-Wan successfully deflected a blow, then managed to counter it with one of his own, hitting with enough strength to knock his assailant unconscious. The Ancient fell to the ground with an unceremonious thump at Obi-Wan’s feet, and Obi-Wan felt a small, but typical swell of satisfaction at containing the situation. He glanced up and caught Anakin’s eyes. Anakin had managed to apprehend the rest of the Utai and the landing pad was clear, ready for Commander Cody’s ship. They could leave, report back to the Jedi Council, and add one more dangerous Separatist general that had been taken down. It was admittedly more than Obi-Wan had hoped for. So, why was that vaguely ominous feeling, way down in the in the roots of his Force, still there? For a pure second, Anakin smiled at him, bemused, obviously proud of Obi-Wan, though apprehending the ancient had hardly been an impressive feat, and Obi-Wan gazed back, equally as unnecessarily proud of Anakin’s work and enjoying the camaraderie of the moment. Obi-Wan continued to gaze at his counterpart, furrowing his brow in confusion when he saw Anakin’s smile fade and watched his eyes darken in horror. He started to call out, but Anakin’s name died on his lips, as Anakin yelled his own.

“Obi-Wan! Watch out--!”

Obi-Wan sensed it a second too late, and he whirled around. Apparently the blow that he had dealt the Ancient had not actually been enough to level them, and they’d managed to get up and strike a move before either Obi-Wan and Anakin could notice. A stupid, senseless mistake on their part, but it only took that one second. Obi-Wan reached out for the electrostaff and it vibrated in response, but he couldn’t maneuver in time. The ancient got him with an uppercut and he stumbled back, electrostaff settling back on the ground as he lost his concentration. Before he could recover, the ancient gave a forceful and swift kick to his stomach and sent him flying back. He hit the ground and realised that he’d actually cried out in pain, his stomach searing with a dull and immediate pain. A viable weapon was still far beyond his reach, but it was the last of Obi-Wan’s concerns as his hands flew up to cradle his stomach. Though he’d taken more injuries than this while pregnant, this was a direct injury to his womb. Not only did the physical injury hurt, but the rushing wonder if the baby was okay...he doubled over, rolling over onto his side. 

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin yelled louder this time, and ran to his side, dropping down onto his knees. “Obi-Wan, are you okay? Is…” Anakin couldn’t finish the sentence and when Obi-Wan looked up at him, eyes glazed over in pain, he saw that Anakin had tears in his eyes. Obi-Wan opened his mouth, made a soft noise, then closed it. He thought that he might be bleeding, he could feel something oozing from him, so he said nothing, though he continued to gaze up at Anakin.

The Ancient had decided that now was probably a good time to make an escape, teeming with regret, guilt, and most of all, fear, so strongly that it was nearly palatable to a Force sensitive person, and Anakin whipped his head around when he heard the movement, and stood quickly with a dramatic flourish of his robe. He shouted and thrust a hand out, twisting it slightly, and effectively stopping the Ancient in its tracks. The panic and fear in the air were cloying--they made Obi-Wan feel _ sick _ , Anakin seemed to  _ feed _ off them. Obi-Wan could feel the power rolling off of him in waves, thick and toxic, and he powerlessly watched Anakin march purposefully towards the now quivering Ancient, black robe billowing out around his ankles with every step he took. 

“ _You will pay for this!_ ” Anakin screamed, “Do you have any idea what you’ve  _ done? _ ” and Obi-Wan tried to prod him gently with his Force signature. The Utai were apprehended. Anakin could easily debilitate the ancient, they weren’t even  _ armed _ . Grievous was dead, and Commander Cody was on his way. Their work here was finished--these Utai and Ancients weren’t separatists, they were scared creatures that Grievous had coerced and threatened into fighting for him. Anakin just needed to restrain the one he was forcechoking, then they could return to the temple, and let the authorities, like Senator Organa, deal with cleanup on Utapaun. Like they always did. 

Anakin completely ignored Obi-Wan and forced the ancient to their knees with a slight twitch of his hand. 

The Ancient wheezed, then stared up at Anakin with wide eyes, puipils dilated in fear. “ _ Please _ \--We never wanted to harm either of you… General Grievous just… General Grievous said he’d kill our families, our  _ whole city _ ...  Just let me go, please, and I promise-- _ hngg! _ ” 

Anakin drew in a deep breath from the earth itself and tensed his hand, and the Ancient choked, this time reaching both hands up to their throat as if they were groping for an airway. “ _ You _ are in no position to make demands of  _ me _ ,” Anakin growled, and he tightened his grip with the force, just a little more now, a little tighter… He released all at once and the creature took a gasping breath, then coughed.

“W-what are you going to do, General? Kill me? Jedis  _ don’t  _ kill,” the Ancient replied, though they coughed again, blood dribbling down their chin, and the shaking in their voice, their Force, betrayed that they weren’t so sure.

“I am not just any Jedi,” Anakin brought back his lightsaber and swung, slicing open the creature’s cheek with a skilled precision. Obi-Wan saw their body shiver with fear, and they screamed out loud, both from pain and terror. Obi-Wan could feel Anakin’s Force signature, pumping, angry and thick.  _ Anakin. Anakin.  _

“That’s enough, Anakin!” Obi-Wan was only ten or so feet away, but his voice seemed millions of miles away, lost in the chasm between them. 

“And Jedis  _ do kill _ ,” Anakin continued, heat radiating from him hot enough that Obi-Wan felt burned. His lightsaber came down and sliced open the Ancient’s other cheek, torturing out another pained screamed. “General Kenobi killed General Grievous. Look around! Does this planet seem like its under Separatist control?” The Ancient looked around and even from where Obi-Wan lay, he could see a slow realization, the pulsating of understanding and regret as the Ancient realized that Obi-Wan had spoken the truth. Grievous was no longer a threat and he harmed Obi-Wan for nothing. Tears formed in the depths of the Ancient’s eyes as he gazed up at a seething Anakin. “He saved your _ miserable _ planet! And this is the  _ thanks _ you repay him? And  _ you knew _ , y _ ou know _ he’s carrying, don’t you?”  

The Ancient made a soft whimpering noise as sludgy brown blood dripped down their cheeks. 

“ _ You know, don’t you? _ ” Anakin’s fingers squeezed the air and the ancient choked out a reply before their airway shut off. 

“ _ Yes! _ Yes...I could sense that General Kenobi is...carrying…” The ancient admitted, heart beating so quickly that Obi-Wan could nearly taste it. “ _ Please, I am begging you _ on behalf of myself and my people…  _ Please forgive us _ , Master Skywalker. Do us no harm. We will provide whatever aid we can to General Kenobi! We never meant you or Master Kenobi harm… General Grievous has had such a tight hold on us. We hoped you could defeat him, but we couldn’t be sure. We had to protect our planet, our people…  _ Please _ , we were so scared of him…” the ancient begged, staring up at Anakin, sludgy brown blood and tears dripping shamefully down their face, and by the time Obi-Wan saw Anakin’s grip tighten on his lightsaber, it was too late. Everything happened at once, and Obi-Wan was still on the ground, clutching his stomach, only managing to make it up to his knees before Anakin acted. 

“However scared you were of  _ Grievous _ , is  _ nowhere near _ how scared you should be of  _ me! _ ” With one controlled, forceful swoop, Anakin brought his lightsaber down. It wasn’t just a fatal blow, it was an execution. His saber pierced flesh, and there was a loud scream. However, there was no scream from the fallen ancient, as the blow had been quick, forceful, direct--Obi-Wan hardly recognized the sound of his own voice, as he had been the one to scream.  _ Anakin--!! No! _ He crumpled on his knees, one hand outstretched towards Anakin and slowly falling away, as the area lapsed into almost deafening silence, despite the occasional fire from droids and clones in the distance. Commander Cody had landed the Vigilance about fifty feet away sometime in the last forty-five seconds, Anakin wasn’t sure when, or how much he had seen. He didn’t care. He was only vaguely aware only vaguely aware of the gentle whirring of the ship, of the breeze from its engines. 

Anakin was still standing over the decapitated body, breathing in and out, trying to quell the rage boiling inside of him. He had heard Obi-Wan’s screams, but his ears were deaf to them. All he could hear was the fire in his soul--that had erupted into a blaze when that creature had injured Obi-Wan. Anakin had grown accustomed to watching his master get injured from time to time on missions, but not while in such a vulnerable state. Not when it might hurt… Anakin clenched his eyes shut and continued to clutch his lightsaber until his knuckles whitened. It was still glowing blue, contrasting starkly with his all black ensemble. Anakin forcefully dispelled the thrumming rage from his body, blew it away with a forceful exhale, and clicked his lightsaber off. He turned, to see Obi-Wan, sitting back on his heels, both hands on his stomach, head hanging, and that dissipated the last of his anger, as concern and horror washed over him in an unpleasantly cool wave. 

“Obi-Wan!” He stepped carelessly over the body and ran to where Obi-Wan was, kneeling with his arms wrapped tightly around his stomach. “Master, Master, are you okay?” Anakin wrapped an arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulders as best as he could, trying to pull the man closer to him without jostling him too much. His lips quickly and impulsively pressed to Obi-Wan’s head before he returned to trying to assess his injuries. “Please, are you--”

“You...you  _ killed  _ them, Anakin,” Obi-Wan finally rasped, eyes darting upwards to stare at Anakin in genuine horror. 

Anakin’s mouth slowly dragged down in a frown, though he continued fussing over Obi-Wan, probing against with him with a gentle force signature, trying to assess the damage without breaking into a full blown panic. “They  _ hurt you _ , Obi-Wan, I couldn’t let that happen--”

“You weren’t supposed to kill them, Anakin! We had already won, we could have reasoned with them, accepted their apologies and surrender, Anakin! Jedis don’t  _ kill _ , not like this, Anakin...not out of spite, not out of anger! Anakin--!”

Anakin had manoevered Obi-Wan enough that he could successfully pick him, which is what he did. He swept him up into his arms bridal style, and his frown deepened when Obi-Wan visibly winced at being moved. It wasn’t that bad, he was sure that nothing was broken, but between the resonating ache in his stomach and the emotional turmoil, Obi-Wan felt weak, and though he was still protesting, he let himself concave in Anakin’s arms. “Killed them, Anakin… You killed them…” he murmured, head lolling over and falling against Anakin’s shoulder, before he moaned and gently writhed in pain, one hand splaying across the small bump of his stomach.

Anakin’s brow knitted and he fretted, a hand of his own briefly skimming over Obi-Wan’s bump, muttering softly. “It will be okay, I promise, you’ll be okay.” He kissed Obi-Wan’s head as best as he could with the awkward angle, then started for the ship as fast as he possibly could while carrying another. “We just need to get you back to the temple, get a healer… you guys will be fine, I promise.”

That wasn’t in Anakin’s control, so it was an empty promise. Obi-Wan didn’t point that out though, and instead lapsed into silence, trying not to put any additional strain on his abdomen.  _ They _ would be fine.  _ They _ … Anakin had slipped into using the plural. 

It made warmth that didn’t come from pain spread across Obi-Wan’s chest, and he mulled the sentence over a few more times in his mind, before letting his eyelids spasm and his vision fade to a dull black, as he teetered the realm between consciousness and a hazy mental white noise. 

.

“Help! Please, we need some help immediately!” Obi-Wan was still in Anakin’s arms, only teetering on the realm of vaguely conscious, tongue beginning to loll out of his mouth, eyelids occasionally spasming. 

_ OBI-WAN!!  _

_ No...No!  _

“He needs medical attention immediately!” Anakin had burst into med-bay the second that they’d made it back to the Temple, and had promptly began to scream his head off at the med-droids, who simply whirred in response, though by the fifth or so time that he screamed and threatened dismemberment, they began to ready the table for Obi-Wan and ask questions calmly while preparing to treat him. Anakin froze for a moment when he saw the table-- _ blood pooling on the table, dripping off the edges... It’s a healthy baby-- _ and glanced down at the unconscious Obi-Wan in his arms. He was unwell, he needed medical treatment, and his Force was a little weaker than usual, but it was still humming steadily, he was alive, he wasn’t  _ dying.  _ However, the secondary Force signature, when Anakin really honed in...well, he just wasn’t sure. It felt as though it were quivering, and Anakin was afraid it might fade altogether. It was this frantic reaching with the Force that finally got him over his initial balking, and he laid Obi-Wan down on the table, immediately reaching to grip his hand until a med-droid unceremoniously pushed him out of the way. 

“He-he was kicked in the stomach, that’s all, I don’t know--it must have been hard, he passed out from the pain I think… Please, you’ve got to help him, you have to, if he’s  _ bleeding _ …  _ please _ ,” Anakin begged and babbled incoherently, only stepping back to let the med-droids complete their scans, but still peering at Obi-Wan’s still form as best as he could. 

“Patient--Obi-Wan Kenobi. Jedi. Carrier. Clear medical history.” One med-droid cited off, while looking through Obi-Wan’s file, another using a scanner to assess the extent of Obi-Wan’s injuries.

“He’s pregnant!” Anakin burst out, realizing that wouldn’t be in Obi-Wan’s medical history. Despite Anakin’s badgering, Obi-Wan had refused to go to med-bay for anything related to his pregnancy. He insisted that he would know if something was wrong with the baby, he coul _ d feel _ it after all, not just physically but through the Force. Anakin had sworn to Obi-Wan that he wouldn’t tell anyone, but med-droids were sworn to patient confidentiality anyway, and this was a matter of life or death. Obi-Wan would stay alive on that table, even if Anakin had to sell every last piece of his soul to keep it that way.

_ Sorry, I’m sorry, Sorry, I’m so sorry… _

_ OBI-WAN!! _

Surely enough, the med-droid didn’t react to the revelation and merely moved the scanner over Obi-Wan’s abdomen and began a list of questions for Anakin.

“How long has the patient been carrying?” 

“Uhh, about nineteen weeks,” Anakin answered, trying his hardest to take a deep, yet shaky, breath and put himself in the right mindset to answer any questions that the med-droids might pose.

“Any difficulties?” 

“Umm… I… His feet swell, he gets morning sickness--no, I don’t think there have been any difficulties--”

“Subject is having severe internal bleeding. Baby is not developed enough to be born prematurely for at least another six weeks.”

Anakin slowly felt all the oxygen leave the room and he felt as if the med-droids were moving in slow motion, slowly undressing Obi-Wan, slowly setting up their equipment, slowly administering an IV of anaesthesia and another of fluids,  _ why  _ were they going so slowly? Every second Obi-Wan was losing more  _ blood _ … If Anakin had voiced his displeasures aloud, which he thought he might have, the med-droids ignored him.

“If the baby is delivered now, it will die. Assess whether it will pose danger to Kenobi’s life to keep the baby inside of him.” 

Anakin made the worst noise, strangled by devastation, and he reached out pointlessly for Obi-Wan, and ended up levitating a scalpel, then allowed it to fervently fly at the wall, clattering to the floor with a high-pitched  _ clang _ .

“Master Skywalker, you must leave, unless you calm down,” A med-droid informed him, not unkindly, just matter-of-factly. 

Leave? No, Anakin couldn’t leave, he wouldn’t leave Obi-Wan, not like this, not  _ ever.  _ He sucked in a deep, shaky, breath that he couldn’t hold and slowly sunk down onto the closest bench to the delivery table, his head sliding to rest in his hands. The gentle whirring of the droids that Anakin usually found comforting now sounded like a ticking clock and his fingers twisted into his hair as he tried not to think about his dream, tried not to imagine all of those med-droids, steele streaked red. 

_ Not like this, Anakin, not out of spite… not out of anger… _

Anakin’s fingers flexed and curled, and he could hear the med-droids continue to speak methodically while they worked on Obi-Wan, but he couldn’t make out the words they said, no matter how hard he tried to listen. Obi-Wan’s scream, the heart-wrenching scream from the gut, ripped through his mind, time after time. Anakin had taken the life of an innocent Ancient--yes, they had transgressed, but only out of fear, not out of malice. They had probably been a good creature, mostly, a caring ruler. Obi-Wan hadn’t even wanted him to kill Count Dooku--Obi-Wan didn’t  _ know  _ that he killed Dooku. Obi-Wan was a master fighter who preferred peace, a general who preferred diplomacy to war--Obi-Wan had taught him to never kill anyone, least of all out of spite and anger. If Obi-Wan only knew how many times he had already betrayed that part of the creed, then maybe it wouldn’t have hurt him so badly to see Anakin fall. 

_...apprehend him? You were Knight Kenobi’s padawan for a number of years, Anakin, he’s not that kind of man. _

_ Good is just a matter of perspective.  _

Blood-curling scream, the deafeningly loud slam when Obi-Wan’s knees hit the ground…

Anakin clenched his eyes shut even tighter. 

“--signs of internal bleeding--”

“--suturing--” 

“--check vitals--”

_ OBI-WAN!!  _

“Knight Skywalker. Knight Skywalker.”

Anakin’s head snapped up and his prosthetic hand clamped tightly around the metal arm of a med-droid. He blinked at it. One of the med-droids had tapped his shoulder, and the firm grip on his shoulder brought him crashing back to reality. Sound came rushing back to his ears, drowning out the deafening white noise that had been buzzing there before. The gentle beeping of Obi-Wan’s vitals, the soft sound of breathing, the humming whir of the med-droids--the inside of Anakin’s mind had been screaming so loud that he had assumed it was coming from outside, too, but the room was just as quiet and peaceful as ever. Anakin blinked again.

“Knight Skywalker,” the med-droid repeated, removing its hand from Anakin’s shoulder slowly after Anakin guiltily dropped his hand back to his side. “Knight Kenobi will be fine. He did suffer a bit of internal bleeding, but with a clotting-aid medication, the bleeding will stop on its own accord, no invasive procedures necessary. The clotting has been successful, the bleeding has stopped, but we will still monitor him overnight, just to be safe.”

Anakin felt like he’d gotten punched in the chest, he was so relieved that he thought he might throw up. “Oh thank  _ Force _ ,” he blurted out, reaching out and gripping the med-droid again to steady to steady himself, and his blatant expression of relief and gratitude didn’t hold a torch to what he actually felt inside. He didn’t know what he would have done if Obi-Wan hadn’t been okay.  _ Burned the galaxy down. Watch it bleed dry.  _ “The baby-- _ the baby _ is it--”

“They are stable and healthy, Knight Skywalker, the injury that Knight Kenobi suffered did not breach the embryo, or harm his uterus, in any way.” 

“ _ Oh, thank Force, oh-- _ wait, wait-- _ they? They  _ as in _ they,  _ or _ they  _ as in _... _ ” Anakin gaped up at the med-droid. Though he was drowning relief, still thanking the Force endlessly in his mind, thoughts were still rushing over a hundred miles per minute and he could barely tell up from down, he needed a sedative, a strong drink, and to maybe lay down for an hour or two,  _ they?  _

“Both the babies are in prime condition, very healthy for the twenty week mark--”

“ _ Both? _ ”

“Yes, both--Knight Kenobi is carrying twins.” The med-droid finally stated matter-of-factly when it became clear that Anakin was not picking up what it was laying down. “One boy and one girl.” 

If Anakin hadn’t already been completely emotionally drained by the day, he would’ve been completely floored, would’ve been rambling and tugging at Obi-Wan’s sleeve-- _ twice t _ he childcare _ , twice  _ the toys _ , twice  _ the love _ , twice  _ the chance they would lose a child to the Jedi Path _ \-- _ but Anakin was very tired, and he didn’t have the emotions to give, so instead he merely bottled them up inside and thanked the med-droid, slumping back into the bench and gripping the edges, as he gazed at Obi-Wan’s sedated form on the table. 

It was going to be a long night.

.

.

“Ani?”

Anakin jolted awake at the sound of his name, disoriented as he hadn’t even realised that he had fallen asleep. He was slumped over uncomfortably on the bench, chin touching his sternum, and his neck aching sharply. He winced and rubbed at the back of his neck--oh, that was going to leave a crick--then immediately his eyes darted up to the table when all the memories came rushing back.

_ Please, I am begging you… _

_ Do us no harm... _

_ However scared you were of General Grievous, it’s nowhere near how scared you should be of me! _

_ NO!!! _

_ Not out of spite and anger…  _

_ OBI-WAN!! _

_ Good is just a matter of perspective… _

_ Knight Kenobi will be fine.  _

_ They are healthy and stable… _

_Are you familiar with_ _The Tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?_

Anakin stared at Obi-Wan, how peaceful he looked lying there, how steady his vitals were, the gentle, rhythmic beeping sound soothing Anakin and getting his hands to stop trembling for the most part. How  _ clean  _ Obi-Wan looked, no blood, no screaming, no sound, his Force signature pulsating and letting Anakin know he was alive--Obi-Wan was fine. Anakin drew in a deep breath then looked up to see who had awoken him and to thank them on behalf of his spine, only to see Padme. She was still dressed in an overly ornate outfit, face pale, lips red--she must have been working late that night. Vaguely, in the very back of his mind, he wondered if her working late nights had anything to do with the Chancellor, but honestly, politics were so far from Anakin’s mind, that the fledgling of a thought could go no further than that. 

“Padme,” he finally said, and his voice almost sounded strange to his own ears for a second. Strained, tired, anxious. 

“Ani, I’m so sorry, I came as soon as I could. I was in a meeting when I heard about Obi-Wan, but I was so worried--”

“Heard about Obi-Wan?” Anakin’s hand shot out, and he grabbed Padme’s wrist, much like he’d done with the med-droid earlier.

“Ani--”

“What did you hear? What about Obi-Wan?” Anakin wrenched Padme’s wrist as he yanked her closer, speaking in a harsh voice that was too quiet to be a yell but had all the same elements.

“Ani, owww,  _ stop! _ ”

The pain in Padme’s voice--the pain in Obi-Wan’s voice,  _ you killed them _ \--snapped Anakin back and he dropped her wrist, practically throwing it away from himself, and he stared in near horror, then scrubbed a hand over his face. “Shit, Padme, I’m  _ sorry _ \--it’s just been… well, it’s  _ been _ .” 

Padme jerked her hand back to her body and rubbed her wrist gently, gazing at Anakin tentatively, then sighing and reaching back out to touch his shoulder, albeit tentatively. When he didn’t react, and even leaned into her touch, she sighed again and rubbed her hand across his back. “All I heard was that Obi-Wan had gotten injured on a mission, but that you guys had successfully taken down Grievous. I couldn’t get any specifics. The Chancellor wanted to have you sent for immediately but Master Windu told him that neither you or Obi-Wan would be going to the Senate until you’d had a full report with the Council. The Chancellor was  _ not  _ happy, Ani, tensions are really rising between him and the Council, I think that there’s going to be some serious clashes of interests soon, and I know you don’t want to hear this Ani, but I’m not so sure that the Chancellor has any of our best interests at heart--”

“Obi-Wan is pregnant!” Anakin burst it out, and he hadn’t meant to, and he knew that he shouldn’t just be yelling about it freely, despite the fact that Padme already knew about it, but Padme had been going on and on, about things that he just couldn’t think about. Anakin understood the suspicions Padme--and Obi-Wan--had about Palpatine, and they were probably  _ right _ . After his last meeting with Palpatine, he had no doubts that there was something he was hiding. And if Anakin was willing to listen to his intuition, he would know exactly what that something was. But he wasn’t willing, he couldn’t do it, he  _ needed  _ Palpatine. And he couldn’t tell Obi-Wan or Padme why, so they would just have to trust his judgment on it, and he understood why they both had a bit of trouble doing that from time to time. 

Padme was gaping at his, her lips slightly parted, eyes wide and he could see that she was visibly struggling on how to respond, so he continued in order to spare her from feeling in the position to lie to him. “I know you know,” he said and watched as she visibly unwound in relief, “It’s just, on the mission… Obi-Wan got kicked in the stomach--this  _ miscreant  _ kicked him in the stomach--I thought, I thought he might lose the baby, I thought… I thought they might both die.” Anakin clenched his fist tightly and drew in a deep breath, then released it shakily. “Thought they might  _ all  _ die, should I say… He’s having twins.” Anakin let out more of the breath that he hadn’t realised he was holding, then let his eyes fall from Padme and land back on the floor. 

He faintly heard Padme sigh, then her skirts rustled, and he felt her sink down onto the bench next to him. They sat there in silence for a few moments, Padme’s strong perfume and warmth clouding his space. 

“So, he told you, then, I take it?” Padme finally asked, and Anakin almost grimaced. 

“He told me the night...the night after I came to your private quarters, when I found out about the two of you meeting… I thought about talking to you about it, it’s just been busy, and well… I didn’t want to put you in any uncomfortable positions.” Anakin said, sitting back on the bench, and wondering if he should approach his next bit of information with less or more tact. Padme was probably going to take it badly either way, and he still didn’t have the energy for that.

“Right. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Ani, it’s just that I  _ promised  _ Obi-Wan my silence… You know that he’s going to be asked to leave the Order for this, I’m sure…”

“Yes. We’re going to have to leave the Order for this.” Okay, so maybe not the smoothest way to come clean, but… Padme gave him a set-up, he couldn’t pass it up. He braced himself and watched,  _ felt _ , as the realization of his words dawned on her. 

“You… But why would you both leave the Order? Just because you’re…”

“Because I’m violating the Jedi Code by having children, too.” Anakin let his eyes wander back over to where Obi-Wan lay sleeping and Padme’s eyes followed.

She blanched. “Oh.  _ Oh.  _ So you’re… You and Obi-Wan…”

“Yeah, I’m the one who knocked him up,” And there was when the real lack of tact came. Anakin cringed at himself, and blamed it on how little sleep he had gotten in the past forty-eight hours. 

“So,  _ that’s  _ why he was so wrought about telling you,” Padme burst out, and Anakin could feel the shock and disbelief radiating from her. He felt bad, but he didn’t have it in him to apologize, not for being with Obi-Wan anyway. He could never apologize for that.

“I’m sorry I never told you,” Anakin finally said, turning to look at her, though she did not repay the courtesy. Her gaze stayed firmly away from his, practically drilling into the wall with a pensive stare in attempt not to look at him. “No one else knows, I swear. Not even Master Yoda. We could be in a lot of trouble of anyone found out. Not only are romantic attachments forbidden, but master-padawan relationships are strictly taboo--”

“ _ Master-padawan _ relationships? You started doing this while you were… Oh,  _ Force sake, Ani--! _ ”

“ _ Padme, _ ” Anakin hissed, as if to shush her, although no one was around he always felt as if the Temple had ears everywhere. Or that Master Yoda’s were big enough to hear everything. “Look, it wasn’t like that, okay? I know how it sounds, but it wasn’t. It was more than just verbal consent, more than me just  _ thinking  _ that it wasn’t an abuse of Obi-Wan’s power, I know it wasn’t, okay? Our Force bond is more powerful than you could ever imagine, stronger than anything you’ve ever felt--I know that what we did was right, okay? It’s in the Force, Padme. He and I are meant to be together.”

Padme still looked a little sick, and Anakin only blamed her a little. “Ani, you  _ kissed _ me. You told me you were interested in me. I know we took a long break while you focused on the Clone Wars, I know that was a while ago but… I thought…”

Anakin looked pain. That one cursed week with Padme while he was still a padawan, before he really understood what he and Obi-Wan shared, if he could strike it from existence he would. He had never mean to hurt her. “I shouldn’t have done that, Padme, and I’m sorry. Obi-Wan and I were involved then, but he was still so steeped in the Jedi Code… I never thought it would pass the physical realm, I was lashing out, feeling for something I thought I could never have. Something I finally do have.” Anakin gazed over at Obi-Wan, passion glazing over his eyes, and he could feel Padme’s eyes stiffly on him. “Padme, I’ll understand if you hate me, wish me ill. Please,  _ please  _ just, don’t blame him. He never said anything about my relationship with you, he’s always let me make my own decisions. And the pregnancy… trust me when I say that neither you or I feel close to what he does, if he talked to you then you already know that. Obi-Wan is my better half, my  _ infinitely  _ better half, and I would raze a galaxy to keep him safe. Just please, don’t blame him, and  _ please,  _ don’t tell  _ anyone _ . Soon enough we will, but I just--”

“Anakin, _ Ani-- _ ” Padme held up her hand in attempt to silence Anakin’s manic ranting and he finally snapped his mouth shut to listen to her. “I’ve kept every secret you’ve ever asked me to, kriff, I probably have more of your secrets than my own. You think that just because you’ve been getting it on with your hot Jedi master, that I’m suddenly going to quit keeping your secrets? Yeah, you should have told me before. You should have known that I would never do anything to hurt you  _ or _ Obi-Wan. I mean come on, Ani. Complications aside, we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Padme, with complications or with no complications, you are my  _ best  _ friend. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” 

“And I’m sorry about, well, all of this,” Padme responded, and she and Anakin finally both turned their heads, eyes locking. With that, Anakin wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in a little closer, and she leaned into the touch gently. 

They stayed that way for a while, until Padme had to straighten up, thought she left her knees touching Anakin’s through the thick folds of her skirts. 

“Do you really think Obi-Wan is  _ hot? _ ” Anakin asked, and the smirk playing on his lips told her that he wasn’t nearly as aghast as his voice made him out to be. 

“Naturally,” Padme responded coolly, “You don’t?” 

“Well  _ obviously I do _ , he’s sexy as kriff…” Anakin shot back just as coolly, and now Padme was smirking, too.

“You know, I would’ve slept with him if I’d ever gotten the chance,”

Though Anakin knew that Padme was just ribbing him, he felt a spike of jealousy jolt through his body and he narrowed his eyes at her, which only made her giggle. She wrapped an arm around Anakin’s arm and leaned against him. “Oh c’mon, Ani. Can you blame me?”

“Not at all,” Anakin responded dryly, and something about joking around with Padme, in the grimmest of all situations, calmed him. Made him feel like everything would be okay. That’s why he had always liked Padme, she’d always made him feel like everything would be okay, even when she didn’t say a single comforting word. Maybe it was her red velvet lips or maybe it was her commandeering presence, or maybe it was just the fact that she was reliable, dependable, he  _ trusted  _ her, and if she still saw light in him… Well, he couldn’t be too far gone. 

“So, tell me… Is he good?” Padme’s smirk was full-fledged now, and she nudged Anakin when he pulled a scandalized voice. “Come on, I want  _ details _ . You owe me.” 

“Let me just say that he insists we have a very  _ deep  _ connection, and that I be  _ flexible  _ about things…” Anakin trailed off teasingly and Padme swatted at him, but giggled. “Aww, c’mon, Padme, what do you want me to say? That he sucks cock like an angel, and I can’t remember my own name when he fucks me?” Padme genuinely squealed when he spoke so vulgarly, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Because trust me, that wouldn’t even be scratching the surface when it comes to how  _ good  _ Obi-Wan is.” 

“ _ Horrible _ , Ani, truly horrible…” Padme muttered, squeezing Anakin’s arm lightly. 

They lapsed back into silence, both of them gazing at Obi-Wan’s sleeping form, listening to the beeping and humming--the med-bay always felt like a completely different world. It was in the Temple, but neither of them even felt like they were on Coruscant anymore. They couldn’t tell if it felt like solace or like prison. 

Padme was the first to break the silence, and she squeezed Anakin’s arm again. “So, twins, huh?”

“Apparently,” Anakin responded, rubbing at the back of his head and stretching his back out with a quiet groan. “So, if I’m a terrible father, I’ll get to fuck up two children, not just one…”

“Don’t say that, Ani,” Padme frowned, “You may be terrible at a good many things, but I don’t think father will be one of them.”

Anakin snorted. “Thanks for the bout of confidence, Padme.” 

“Anytime,” Padme responded, deadpan, then moved her hand from Anakin’s arm to his shoulder. “You know, what happened on the mission, to Obi-Wan, to the...babies. It’s not your fault, Ani. You can’t protect him from everything.” 

Anakin recoiled from her touch at that, face furrowing in something close to anger. “I can, and I  _ will _ . Nothing can happen to him--Padme, do you understand?  _ Nothing can happen to them _ \--”

“Shhh, shh, Ani… It’s okay, it’s okay--”

“No, it’s  _ not _ , it’s  _ not okay _ \--I’m not strong enough, Padme.  _ The Chosen One, _ the most powerful Jedi of them all, I’m not strong enough to save them--I need to be stronger. I didn’t save them this time, it was just  _ luck _ ,  _ luck  _ saved them this time--I need to be strong enough.”

“Anakin, you are, you are strong enough, you that you are--hey, it’ll be okay, okay? They’ll be okay, you don’t have to  _ save  _ anyone.” 

_ So tell me, do you think that the Jedi Council has picked the right man for the job? _

_Are you familiar with_ _The Tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?_

Anakin sat with Padme for the next two hours. She said everything would be okay, and for the first time since he’d known her, he didn’t believe her at all. 

.

When Obi-Wan awoke, he became aware of so many things simultaneously, that he almost wasn’t aware of anything. He was--okay, he was lying on a hard, flat surface. He could feel that. Anakin was close... and unharmed, aside from bubbling anxiety, he could feel that through their Force bond. His stomach was aching and his head hurt just a little bit, and when he moved to try and sit up, well that’s when he really knew that his stomach was really aching. He grimaced intensely as he tried to prop himself up on his elbows, eyelids fluttering with the exerted effort to open his eyes. He had to try to open them futilely a few times, before they finally ungummed and he was able to open them up. He promptly shut them as soon as he opened them, the bright overhead lights too bright in contrast to the darkness of the back of his eyelids.  _ Oh _ , why was everything so  _ stiff?  _

“Obi-Wan!” 

The sound of Anakin’s voice was close, he knew, but it still felt so far away, and sluggishly he tried to reach out and grasp at it with his hand. “A--A…” Was all he could get out, voice syrupy and throat thick with the need to cough.

“Yes, I’m right here!”

A slender, cool hand was lacing around his warm one and he felt a gentle pressure--a squeeze, Anakin was squeezing his hand. 

“ _ Why is he reacting like this? Is he okay? You  _ **_said_ ** _ he was okay--” _

_ “He’s fine, Master Skywalker, it’s just the anesthetic wearing off. Give him time.”  _

The voices sounded so distant, like those of a dream, and Obi-Wan wondered if he would even be able to tell the difference between a dream and reality right now. With how heavy his head felt, it was unlikely. He felt something warmer press against his hand--a mouth, lips, Anakin was kissing his hand. 

“ _ I’ve got you, I’ve got you, Master, _ ” 

Obi-Wan let his head loll to the side, he just needed another minute….

When he opened his eyes the next time, he had no idea how much time had passed. The light didn’t hurt his eyes as badly this time, maybe because his cheek was pressed to the table and he wasn’t staring right up into the fluorescents, or maybe because the medicines had mostly worn off. His hand was pinned against the table with a heavy warm weight, Anakin was still holding it. 

Tiredly and slowly, Obi-Wan rolled his head over, blinking a few times then gazing at Anakin, who was sitting next to the table, hunched over. One hand was wrapped around Obi-Wan’s, while his arms were crossed on the table and his head was resting against them. It didn’t look like a very comfortable position, but Anakin was drifting. Maybe he’d been out longer than he thought. 

He was about to speak, to say Anakin’s name, but Anakin must have sensed his awakening through the force and perked up immediately, blinking wildly and making eye contact with Obi-Wan. 

“Obi-Wan!” He squeezed Obi-Wan’s hand hard and then clambered to his feet, leaning over the still-groggy Jedi and placing a brazen kiss on his forehead. “Oh, thank  _ Force _ , you have no idea how I’ve been worrying--” He got lips this time, and held a lingering kiss, which made Obi-Wan’s eyes widen and his free hand rise up to press at Anakin’s chest.

“Anakin! Not here,” he hissed against Anakin’s mouth, and Anakin only half listened, moving on from his mouth and kissing all over his face.

“It’s fine, Master. There’s no one here. Except the med-droids, and they’re sworn to strict silence.” Anakin hopped up onto the edge of the table, hip pressed against Obi-Wan’s thigh, and moved a hand down to rest against Obi-Wan’s forehead gently. 

“Strict silence…” Obi-Wan mused, then glanced downward. He had been stripped down and put in a generic medical gown, and it made his bump more prominent. “They--they  _ know  _ I take it?”

“Master, I had to tell them. It’s a medical condition--and I needed to know that the...I needed to know that  _ all of you  _ were okay. Their scanners would have picked it up anyway,” Anakin was grappling and Obi-Wan moved a hand to rest on his thigh. 

“It’s okay, Anakin. I’m not angry. You did what you should have done.” Obi-Wan reassured, squeezing Anakin’s thigh gently, and letting his other hand rest tentatively against his bump. The touch made a phantom burst of pain shoot through his abdomen and he winced. It all came back so fresh--the fight, looking over at Anakin and sharing a smile, the unexpected disarmament, the forceful kick to his stomach, oh  _ Force  _ don’t let him miscarry… It had been Obi-Wan’s only prayer as he’d gone down hard, and he hadn’t had the time to fully consider what that said, because what happened after the fateful injury had been so much worse.

_ Anakin--no, no, NO-- _

Anakin had  _ killed  _ that ancient, in cold blood. They could have made it out alive with taking any more lives. Obi-Wan was not naïve enough to think that they could win a war without taking any lives, but that was for the Clones, that was for the Fleets’ discretion. It was not for the Jedis. Jedis did not kill, not like that. Not out of hatred, not out of  _ anger _ . He still vividly remembered the one time that he had killed out of anger--when he had taken Darth Maul’s life. He understood, and always had, that Sith needed to be stopped at all costs, be it life or death. And there was no one to take down a Sith, other than a Jedi. Qui-Gon had told him that from a very young age, he told him that it was a Jedi’s greatest burden. So it was not the matter of killing Darth Maul that haunted him--it was the pure anger that he’d felt while doing it. Darth Maul had just killed his master--Obi-Wan had been teeming with anger, and he had channeled it in his fighting, used it to strike that fatal blow. He remembered the feeling of raw power running through his veins, that was the moment that he truly felt like a Master, like he  _ could be  _ the greatest Jedi in the galaxy, he would step over  _ anyone _ who got in his way and carry on Qui-Gon’s legacy proudly--that ego, that emotion, it was a dangerous one. Obi-Wan had expunged that anger, because he never wanted to feel that way again. He had grieved his master, and then he had poured everything he had into Anakin. He had espoused peace, he  _ hated  _ war, and he tried to never kill. At least, never out of anger. Never again. It was the day that he struck down Darth Maul that he realised that’s what made a Sith. Before, he’d thought it was some fatal, innate character flaw. He had insisted upon it-- _ Master, they’re evil, they’ve  _ **_always_ ** _ been evil, look at what they do! _ \--no matter how many times Qui-Gon told him otherwise.  _ No, Obi-Wan. Once they were just like you and me. There is no such thing as innate evil, the galaxy would be be an easier place to live in if there were. What the Sith are, are choices. That’s the tragedy of it, my apprentice--when a good person thinks that they must do great evil, that is the Dark Side. They all have their reasons, reasons that come from anger and pain. We all carry anger and pain inside of us, there is no innate characteristic that make Sith, these choices, those are what make Sith.  _ When Obi-Wan watched Darth Maul’s severed body fall, when he looked at Qui-Gon so still and lifeless on the floor, that’s when he realized what he had done. He had made a choice, and what he had to do was keep making them. 

He chose Anakin, he chose the Light, he chose goodness. 

Today, he had watched his beloved padawan,  _ the love of his life _ , make a choice. 

And he was afraid. 

_ You  _ **_killed_ ** _ them, Anakin.  _

He hadn’t realised that he’d said the words aloud until he noticed Anakin staring at him, bottom lip quivering and eyes filled with tears, and Obi-Wan tried to sit up, to reach out to Anakin, but Anakin had pushed himself off the table by that point, striding across the room a few paces, back to Obi-Wan. 

“I don’t  _ care. _ ” He bit out, and Obi-Wan gaped, sitting up fully despite the uncomfortable twinge in his still sore abdomen. 

“You don’t  _ care?  _ Anakin--that was needless,  _ innocent  _ blood spilled! By your hand! We had already apprehended Grievous, our mission was complete! You aren’t a soldier Anakin, you don’t just _ shoot _ when you see a separatist flag--you are a  _ Jedi!  _ You should show restraint, control,  _ mercy _ , in all things you do--what you did, Anakin, it wasn’t self-defense, it wasn’t a mission, it was  _ slaughter--! _ ” 

“I don’t  _ care! _ ” Anakin repeated, this time in a shout so violent that it made Obi-Wan jump. He whirled around and now the tears in his eyes were fully formed. His Force signature was radiating so much pain and anger, it flashed Obi-Wan back to what he had felt when they were still at Grievous’s base, Anakin’s Force had been so red that it was nearly black. 

_ Please stop, you’re scaring me! _

“ _ I hate them! I hate all of them! They’re filthy, honourless--I would kill them all again! _ ” Anakin screamed, and his Force rattled the medical trays, a few medical trinkets suspending in the air, quivering as Anakin’s rage palpated into the room.

“They  _ hurt you _ , Obi-Wan, I’ll never let  _ anyone  _ hurt you!  _ Never again! _ ” 

“ _ Anakin! _ ” Obi-Wan yelled back, eyes wide in disbelief as he watched his other half break down. Anakin had always been prone to breakdowns, meltdowns and screaming and self-victimizing, since he was a child. His worst breakdowns didn’t even hold a torch to the state he was in now--his Force signature was thick and heavy and it rammed aggressively up against Obi-Wan’s lighter one, pushing it back violently and making Obi-Wan gasp, one hand flying to his stomach. 

“Obi-Wan!” 

Seeing a moment of Obi-Wan’s weakness seemed to bring Anakin back down a few notches and he rushed to Obi-Wan’s side, reaching out for him. “Obi-Wan--”

“I was  _ fine _ , Anakin,” Obi-Wan breathed out, his voice gentle compared to the fear and distress that was waging inside of him. One hand stayed on his stomach, the other came up to grip at Anakin. “You didn’t need to-- _ I was fine, Anakin--I’m fine _ , it kicked, that’s all. See, feel--” He took Anakin’s hand and pressed it against his stomach. 

Anakin’s eyes widened as he felt a soft ripple in Obi-Wan’s stomach, and pressed a little harder. The babies must have been distressed by the disturbance in their parents Force signatures, and had lashed out in automatic response. The feeling, the little flow of life coming from Obi-Wan, made the tears in Anakin’s eyes fall. His arms wrapped tightly around Obi-Wan and he held him tight against his chest, burying his face in his hair. “I’m sorry,  _ please,  _ I know how you feel about what I did, but I  _ couldn’t _ , Obi-Wan I couldn’t let them hurt you, I just  _ couldn’t _ \--” 

“All right, Anakin,  _ all right _ , it’s all right, just come here,” Obi-Wan’s arms wrapped around Anakin, and he half expected him to feel different in them,  _ darker  _ somehow, but he didn’t. He still felt like his Anakin. Obi-Wan’s arms tightened and his eyes slid shut in resolve. All that  _ anger _ . He couldn’t lose Anakin, he couldn’t… “It will be okay, Anakin. Just… shh, it’ll be okay.” Obi-Wan was at a loss for what to say, but he rubbed his hand down Anakin’s back and he believed what he said. It would be okay, every Jedi had their moment of grey morality. Every Jedi had their moment where they could go Sith, what really made a Jedi was the decisions to keep saying no, over and over again, no matter how many times that path was presented to them. He’d had his moment all those years ago with Darth Maul, and Anakin had his with the ancient, the first time that he’d killed out of anger, as far as Obi-Wan knew. One kill, one moment of weakness, that didn’t make Anakin Sith material. 

Obi-Wan ignored the niggling feeling in his stomach, dismissed it as the baby kicking, and told himself that he’d gotten himself worked up over nothing. Anakin had reacted impulsively. It was hardly  _ darkness _ . 

“I love you, Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmured, hand slipping underneath Anakin’s tunic and resting on his lower back. “Did you get yourself fixed up, too?” 

“I was fine,” Anakin dismissed in a mutter, nestling his head against Obi-Wan’s neck and inhaling deeply, “Just a few scrapes and burns--not worth it. And I love you, too.” 

Obi-Wan didn’t nag him anymore about getting his injuries fixed up, he knew when to pick his battles, and instead stroked his back. “Have you talked to Master Yoda or the Council?” He felt Anakin tense and he sighed. “Not about  _ that _ , Anakin. About Grievous, or anything else?” 

Anakin shook his head. “No one’s came by, except Padme.” 

The storm between them had settled, and Obi-Wan’s hands came up to rest on Anakin’s chest. “Padme came by?” Obi-Wan was slightly concerned by her presence, more out of fears about the going-ons in the Senate, then her involvement in his and Anakin’s life. She had proven to be trustworthy. 

Anakin nodded. “I told her-- _ everything _ . Told her about us. She took it pretty well, I’ve got to say. I wonder if she suspected.”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “She of all people has reason to expect the worst from you…” He was teasing and it made Anakin smile, though Obi-Wan could still feel a heaviness in Anakin’s Force signature that he hadn’t quite discerned. The anger was lying dormant, but there was still  _ something _ \--

“She said that things are really coming to a head between the Chancellor and the Council… that Chancellor Palpatine wants to meet with me immediately,” Anakin told Obi-Wan with a soft sigh, stroking his hair gently and absent-mindedly, “Are nine months up yet?” 

Obi-Wan laughed wryly, and leaned into Anakin’s touches. “A Jedi’s work is never through,” he responded.  _ Until it is…  _ He didn’t give too much thought to the Chancellor, to the Council, he compartmentalized it. He would worry about it the following morning, when they met with the council. Politics really were not the arena of a Jedi, despite how the council involved themselves. Now that Grievous was apprehended, that took care of one of the major problems at hand. They would worry about Darth Sidious another day. Something in his stomach niggled. He ignored it. 

For the next hour or so, he and Anakin just laid by each other’s sides on the too small table, arms wrapped around each other. Anakin was stroking his bump almost compulsively, and Obi-Wan let him get away with it, because of what a long, frankly traumatizing day it had been. When he felt one of the babies kick against Anakin’s hand, it was a calm, curious  motion, not like the kicks from before, and Obi-Wan found something within him warm at the movements. The odd, parental fuzzy feelings--they were largely biological, Obi-Wan knew that. But he also knew that a certain level of non-biological emotional attachment was natural,  _ good _ . He was developing it--but the idea of resigning from the Order still left a pit in his stomach. He had come so, so far,  _ two  _ trimesters, and he still felt as lost as he had when Yoda took his entire world apart and told him that he was pregnant. He sighed and continued to press his nose into Anakin’s hair, listening to his other half breathe, feeling his stable Force signature, a sense of balance between them made Obi-Wan let out silent sighs of relief. 

“Obi-Wan…”

The hesitance in Anakin’s voice made Obi-Wan reflexively tense up, and he peered up at Anakin from where his head was resting on his chest. “What?”

“I… there was something else I found out earlier.” Anakin still sounded hesitant, but his fingers continued to stroke down Obi-Wan’s back which brought Obi-Wan a small modicum of comfort. He didn’t know why he was so on edge. (he did.)

“Hmmm?” he prodded, keeping his gaze upward and eyes lightly catching Anakin’s. 

“We’re… Well, the med-droids did an ultrasound and they told me that--We’re having twins.” Anakin swallowed, and Obi-Wan gazed at him for a few moments of silence, then allowed himself to give a small, understated smile. 

“I know,” he replied softly, leaning up and pressing a soft kiss to Anakin’s mouth. “I’ve always known.” 

Anakin was sporting his confused _ , why didn’t you tell me, I can’t believe this!  _ Expression, and Obi-Wan smiled a little more and coaxed another kiss from him. “I didn’t  _ know _ , I just… sensed. Through their Force signatures. I just hadn’t quite put the pieces together yet.  _ Twins _ .” 

Anakin’s hand rested still on his bump, and Obi-Wan could feel sweet tendrils of Anakin’s Force against it, touching the developing Force signatures inside of him gently. It made Obi-Wan feel those fuzzy emotions that he’d yet to figure out how to process. “A boy and a girl,” Anakin said softly, in wonderment, and sent out a few more loving wisps of the Force. “I told Padme it was twice the children for me to fuck up.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and scoffed lightly. “More like twice the things to fuck us up,” he shot back, and Anakin laughed weakly and murmured  _ that too _ . “We’ll probably never sleep again if they’re anything like us. I’ll be grey within the year.” 

Anakin laughed, and Obi-Wan felt something sweet blossom in his chest. They almost never spoke like this, about  _ them _ . They usually treated Obi-Wan’s pregnancy like something that had happened _ to  _ them, not like something that they were making happen. And to be fair, that’s pretty much how Obi-Wan had felt about it thus far. Now… Well, he still felt that way, but this was progress. 

He hummed, pressing a few errant kisses against Anakin’s chest. “It really shouldn’t have surprised me, now that I think about it. A history of twins runs in my family.” he mused thoughtlessly, fingers twining in the ends of Anakin’s hair. 

Anakin perked up a little at that comment, interested. He didn’t know his own family history.

“Mhhmm. My mother was a twin. She and my uncle--neither of them gave birth to twins, but that skips a generation, usually, doesn’t it? My grandmother, she’s the one who gave birth to twins--may the Force be with her. She actually died during childbirth.” Obi-Wan mused lightly, still playing with Anakin’s hair. 

He froze when the room did--it was like the temperature had dropped ten degrees. It was Anakin’s Force, he would realize belatedly, and his other half went absolutely rigid in his arms. He got no response from Anakin, which finally prompted him to nudge him gently, and apparently that had been the catalyst needed to set Anakin into motion, because next thing Obi-Wan knew, Anakin was gently shoving him away and getting to his feet. “Anakin, what--” Obi-Wan sat up and stared at Anakin as he walked in quick, short movements to grab his cloak, and donned it in one fluid motion.

“I need to meet with the Chancellor. I told you what Padme said earlier, he said it was emergency. That he needed to see immediately.”

“ _ Anakin-- _ ” 

“I just need to make sure that I can circumvent the situation building with the Senate. You know that the Chancellor suspects treason--I’m his only liason, it could get so much worse than this if I don’t make it better. I  _ will  _ make it better, Obi-Wan.”

“Can’t you wait--” 

“Just stay here, the med-droids want to observe you overnight. I’ll be back here as soon as my meeting with the Chancellor ends, and I won’t leave again. I promise. Just wait here for me.” Anakin closed the short distance between them and kissed Obi-Wan on the forehead hard. Obi-Wan’s hands reached up to grasp at the front of Anakin’s cloak, but they fell away when Anakin pulled away from him, and he watched helplessly as Anakin swept from the med-bay with a dark swish of his cloak.

Later that very night, when he could feel Anakin’s Force signature blacken and burn, he would regret not holding on tighter in that moment. 

.

_ No. _

_ No, no, no, no!   _

As Anakin stormed through the Temple halls in the darkness, blood pumped so loudly in his ears that it threatened to deafen him. 

_ A history of twins runs in my family. ...She actually died during childbirth.  _

_ Died during childbirth.  _

_ OBI-WAN!!  _

Anakin’s fists clenched at his sides and he ground his teeth, trying to keep the tears he felt inside at bay. The visions, the  _ premonitions _ , they haunted him more now than ever, and he wished that he could dig his fingers into his skull and claw the images out. 

He knew that Obi-Wan was upset, worried, about what happened earlier, which is exactly why Anakin couldn’t tell him about all of this, couldn’t worry him even more. This was something he would handle on his own, he would do this for Obi-Wan, for his  _ family _ . Obi-Wan just needed to focus on the twins, on getting through the next three months of pregnancy. Anakin would take care of the rest. 

No matter what it took. 

Anakin’s hand immediately fell to clutch at the hilt of his lightsaber on his belt, and he exhaled sharply.  _ No matter what it took.  _

He slipped into one of the larger meeting rooms quietly, shutting the door with the Force behind him. The room was dark, only city lights streaming in through the large windows, and Anakin started to reach for his comm, then started and dropped it in surprise.

“Anakin. I see you got my message.” 

“ _ Chancellor _ ,” Anakin hadn’t noticed the dark figure standing in front of one of the windows, and it had gone undetected by his Force. Very few people could shield that well--or should he say very few  _ things  _ could shield that well. Jedi.  _ Sith _ . “I don’t understand. How did you…”

“How did I know you were going to comm me? To ask me to meet here? Come on, dear boy, how much longer would you like to play this game? I think that you know how I knew.” 

Anakin took a few tentative steps further into the room, hand still laid atop the hilt of his lightsaber. “ _ Darth Sidious _ ,” He said darkly, walking until he had reached the center of the room. Palpatine still didn’t move.

“Yes,” Palpatine replied nonchalantly, as if Anakin had merely asked him if he wanted more sugar in his tea. “But you can still call me  _ Palpatine  _ if you’d like. It’s rather grown on me.” 

Anakin nearly growled. “Who said I want to call you _ anything? _ ”

“Well, you did want to call me here, Anakin, so it was implied,” Palpatine had the audacity to laugh then, and it stirred a strong rage in Anakin’s stomach. 

“Maybe I just called you here to have you arrested, put to trial in a court. Maybe this is a set-up, and the entire Council is waiting on the other side of  _ that door _ \--” Anakin pointed and a strong, cold grip of the Force pushed his arm back down. He stared at Palpatine’s cloaked figure in horror. 

“First of all, they  _ aren’t _ . I would know. No one can shield that well-- _ not from me _ . Second of all, by all means have me  _ arrested  _ Anakin. If that’s what you really came here to do.” 

Anakin burned. “You’re--you  _ used  _ me! You  _ lied  _ to me! You’re plotting against the Jedi, is that it? And I was your foot in the door?”

“On the  _ contrary _ , Anakin, I never used you. Everything I’ve ever said to you, none of it has been a lie. The Jedi are  _ traitors _ . They are _ petty  _ and they  _ are weak _ ,” Palpatine spat the words at him with more vehemence than Anakin had ever heard in his voice, though Anakin still couldn’t look at anything other than the dark shadow of his back, and a few glimpses of reflection in the window. “You are the greatest of the Jedi. Now, you can be the greatest of the Sith. Greater than me, greater than anyone in the entire galaxy. I believe that, Anakin. I believe in  _ you _ .  _ I _ trust you. I  _ trust _ you. I trust  _ you _ .” 

The words twisted in Anakin’s stomach like a knife dipped in poison, the words spread through his veins, and infected him when he tried to shut them out.  _ Trust _ . No one had ever trusted him--no one ever  _ did  _ trust him. The council didn’t, Padme didn’t, even  _ Obi-Wan _ didn’t trust him! He’d felt it earlier, in his Force signature. Obi-Wan worried about him, about what he saw him do earlier. What would he do, what would he think--if he knew that the Separatist wasn’t the first life that he’d taken? What would he do if he knew about what happened on Tatooine? If he knew about Dooku? Would he _ trust _ him then? 

Anakin had no chance to respond, because Palpatine was turning, and continuing to speak then.

“Now, the real question, Anakin, is  _ do you trust me? _ ” 

Palpatine turned to face him and lowered the hood of his cloak, causing Anakin to draw in a shallow breath of shock, horror, disgust. The face of Palpatine had melted away, and Anakin was greeted with the sight of something... _ unhuman _ . Unlike anything he had ever seen before. Eyes, yellow and feral, sunken into a face covered in grey, shriveled skin, bones swollen against the rotten skin that stretched across them.  _ Darth Sidious.  _

“Anakin, it’s time,” Palpatine said, hands tucked into the sleeves of his robe, as he gazed at Anakin, those yellow eyes glowing in the darkness of the room. “I need you to help me restore order to the galaxy.” 

Anakin’s heart pounding in his ears almost drowned out the words that Palpatine spoke, and his grip on his saber tightened, though he made no response.

“Join me. Pledge yourself to the Sith. Become my apprentice.” 

A wave of nausea hit Anakin full force and he could feel a little bit of shaking at the knees. All he could think about was Obi-Wan in med-bay,  _ his master _ , probably asleep and none the wiser that his beloved apprentice was in the same room as a  _ Sith Lord _ . What would Obi-Wan say, what would he  _ do?  _ He couldn’t know. “I--I can’t.”

“Of course you can.”

Anakin shook his head, fingers digging into his saber hilt so hard that it hurt. “No--I--I can’t. I came here to...to…” Anakin couldn’t finish the sentence.

“To  _ what?  _ To continue the charade, to keep pretending that you didn’t know  _ who _ ,  _ what  _ I was? To think that you could  _ ask me  _ for a favour, without my expecting anything in return? You know, for someone who is so accusatory about  _ using people _ , you are certainly  _ well-versed  _ in it.”

Anakin averted his eyes from Palpatine’s for a moment and looked down at his hands. The left one, not on his lightsaber, was shaking. He clenched it.

“It’s the Jedi or me, Anakin. You can’t have both, not anymore. Or, perhaps I should put it more plainly: It’s the Jedi or  _ Obi-Wan Kenobi _ .” 

In one smooth motion, Anakin unsheathed his saber, and the blue lit up in vibrant contrast with his all-black apparel, illuminating the space around him. 

Palpatine’s amusement seemed to run out at Anakin’s display and his lips curled up into an appalling smile. “I think we both know that you’re not going to use that, Anakin. You kill me, you kill  _ Darth Plagueis.  _ And I think we  _ both know  _ why you’re actually here. You want, no you  _ need  _ my knowledge. You need to  _ save  _ Obi-Wan Kenobi.” 

Anakin’s grip on his lightsaber stayed strong, but his hands were still trembling. “How-- _ how-- _ ”

“Childbirth, tsk, tsk,” Palpatine clicked his tongue, “What a  _ paltry _ way to go. These days you’re more likely to get killed by an exploding supernova than by  _ childbirth _ . Oh, yes, I know. How far along is he? Twenty weeks? Twenty more until he  _ dies  _ on the operation table--so much  _ blood _ . That’s what you see, isn’t it, Anakin? All that blood.” Palpatine clicked his tongue again. “Oh, yes, I know all about yours and Obi-Wan Kenobi’s  _ expected twins _ . If it’s a comfort to you, they’ll survive. Obi-Wan on the other hand… Well, I think you know how it ends for him.” 

Anakin’s eyes were wide and filling with tears. He still looked stunned, the blue from his saber illuminating his face and Palpatine seemed nearly exasperated with his shock.

“ _ Anakin _ , I could feel their Force signatures practically from the time of  _ conception _ \--you may be able to get it past the  _ Jedi Council,  _ but you can’t get it past  _ me.”  _

The power radiating from Palpatine was chilling, and the nausea continued to creep up--if Palpatine wanted to kill him, he could kill him. And then Obi-Wan would die. The only thing that was keeping them alive was Palpatine’s interest in him. Anakin floundered--he didn’t think he had ever felt so lost before. “I-- _ yes _ , I need your powers. But it’s just… it’s not...easy, that’s all.  I have--I’ve been a Jedi for so long--”

Now Palpatine was smiling again. “There is a place within you, my boy, a place as briskly clean as ice on a mountaintop, cool and remote. Find that place, and look down within yourself; breathe that clean, icy air as you regard your guilt and shame. Do not deny them; observe them. Take your horror in your hands and look at it. Examine it as a phenomenon. Smell it. Taste it. Come to know it as only you can, for it is yours, and it is precious.” 

Anakin gripped his gently humming saber and stared at Palpatine, contemplating his words. After a few moments of contemplation, Anakin let his eyes fall shut. He trusted Palpatine enough to know that he wouldn’t kill him if he closed his eyes.  _ Regard your guilt and shame.  _

Watching his mother die in his arms. The hot anger that had boiled within him, threatening to split him open. Slaughtering the tribe with his saber and no hesitation--the screams of women and children, he listened to them scream and stepped over their lifeless bodies after he cut them down. He razed their village and walked away with just a faint ringing in his ears. He  _ screamed  _ at Padme--he  _ hated them  _ and he almost hated  _ her  _ in that moment. 

Dooku--he cut him down, at the urging of Palpatine, but it wasn’t that quiet urging that made him swing his lightsaber. He _wanted_ to kill him. He remembered the way that Dooku had flung Obi-Wan back, his prosthetic tingled with phantom sensation as he remembered the numbing sensation of losing his arm at the elbow--all _Dooku_. Anakin had wanted him to beg for his life, then he had wanted to say _no,_ to kill him anyway.   
The Ancient. Watching that foot connect with Obi-Wan’s stomach, hearing him cry out in pain, watching him fall, in slow motion it seemed. When Anakin had stormed over, dragged the creature by its neck across the ground, there had been no doubt in his mind what he was going to do. He was going to _kill them_. They laid a hand on Obi-Wan, on the twins, on what was _his_ , and now they would never touch anything again. Anakin had kicked them to the ground and let his saber swing, and he would _do it again_.

The memories were all hot and intimate in his mind, but Palpatine had been  _ right _ . There was a place, he could hold them, he could look at them, he could see that hadn’t been  _ darkness _ . It had been  _ power.  _ He gripped the memories and leeched the power from them, discarding the shells like debris in the wind. They couldn’t hurt him, not ever again. 

On the mountain peak within himself, he weighed Obi-Wan’s life against the Jedi Order.

It was no contest. 

“ _ Yes _ ,” he finally said, and he let his lightsaber click off. 

Palpatine’s smile said that he knew exactly what Anakin was saying, what he had found upon his mountain peak, but still he asked, “Yes to what, my boy?” 

“Yes, I want your knowledge.” 

“Good,  _ good! _ ”

Anakin planted his feet firmly on the ground. His hands were no longer shaking. “I want your power. I want the power to stop death.” 

“And have it, you shall. The Force is strong with you, Anakin. You can do  _ anything _ .”

“The Jedi betrayed you,” Anakin said, and his voice sounded different to his own ears, “Just as they will betray me, and Obi-Wan. This is the only way. I  _ will save him _ .”

“As you say. Are you ready?” 

“I am,” Anakin meant it, but the words still felt so heavy on his tongue.  _ Please, forgive me Obi-Wan. Please, understand one day. I won’t let you die.  _ “I give myself to you, Darth Sidious. I pledge myself to the ways of the Sith. Take me as your apprentice. Teach me. Lead me. Be my…  _ Master. _ ” 

Palpatine was still smiling, though Anakin didn’t think anything had ever looked so grim,  in spite of the blossoming of hope deep within his chest. “Kneel before me, Anakin Skywalker. 

Without hesitation, Anakin dropped to one knee and looked up at Palpatine. The horrific face was getting less and less horrific to look at--if he needed to see true horror, he would only need to look in a mirror.  _ Please forgive me, Obi-Wan.  _

“It is your will to join your destiny _ forever _ with the Order of the Sith Lords?” 

Anakin thought about Obi-Wan. He thought about all the times that Obi-Wan had smiled about him, he thought about the stolen kisses, he thought about how Obi-Wan’s hair looked while he slept, how  _ golden  _ his Force was even when he fought. He thought about Obi-Wan’s baby bump, how it felt under his fingers, the occasional stirring of the twins.  _ His  _ twins,  _ their  _ twins. They were his forever--and he needed to protect them. “Y--”

“ _ Anakin! _ ” 

A lot of things happened at once then, and Anakin couldn’t get the word out before the door to the room flung open and Obi-Wan’s voice, Force, presence, which he previously thought had only been in his head, flooded the room. 

Anakin rose from his knees hurriedly and he could feel a spike of anger in Palpatine’s force signature-- _ so close-- _ but he was spinning around to see Obi-Wan standing in the doorway. He was dressed in his usual tunics and robes, and he had his lightsaber in hand. When Anakin had left him in med-bay, he had looked pregnant, vulnerable, and gentle. Now, he was  _ General  _ Kenobi, the same strong Jedi Knight that the Clones, the Council,  _ everyone  _ always saw. It made it easier to resent him, and what kind of  _ thought  _ was that? 

“Obi-Wan,  _ leave _ ,” Anakin said immediately, hand once more drawing out his lightsaber, and he watched as Obi-Wan’s face contorted with even more pain than it already was. 

“ _ Anakin _ , what are you  _ doing?  _ This isn’t the Chancellor--there  _ is no  _ Chancellor Palpatine-- _ Darth Sidious  _ has been corrupting your mind!” 

Palpatine laughed at that and Anakin could feel a sharp stab of anger radiate from Obi-Wan’s force signature. 

“I know who he is, Obi-Wan!” Anakin shouted, and with that he clicked his lightsaber on.  _ This is for your own good, my love. You’ll see that one day.  _ “I told you to  _ wait for me _ in med-bay.” 

Obi-Wan gaped in disbelief. “ _ Wait for you--??  _ While you  _ what??  _ Try to negotiate with a  _ Sith Lord? _ Anakin,  _ what are you doing? _ ” 

_ Jedis cannot save him, Anakin. I can.  _

Palpatine didn’t speak aloud, but Anakin could read his words from the Force, and his resolve strengthened. It was for Obi-Wan’s own good. “You don’t understand, Obi-Wan--”

“There’s nothing to  _ understand _ , Anakin! The Sith are… They’re  _ disease, _ Anakin--whatever you’re trying to do, we can do this together, we can take him together,” With that, Obi-Wan dropped his robe to the floor, and his lightsaber lit up, a stunning, matching blue to Anakin’s. He walked down the steps, and though Anakin stood in defensive posture with his lightsaber wielded, of course he did nothing. He would never hurt Obi-Wan, that’s why he was there in the first place. 

“I don’t think  _ you _ can do what Anakin is doing,  _ Master  _ Kenobi,” Palpatine said pleasantly, though Obi-Wan could easily hear the undertones of threat in the Sith Lord’s voice. 

Obi-Wan smiled grimly back, his usual tongue-in cheek persona as he whirled his lightsaber and sidestepped Anakin. “Maybe, maybe not,  _ Darth  _ Sidious, but I can do  _ lots  _ of things that Anakin  _ can’t do _ . And killing Sith Lords is one of those things.” 

Palpatine blinked at him, with his nightmarish yellow eyes and thin eyelids, then laughed uproariously. “Things Anakin  _ can’t do?  _ Oh, Anakin, you  _ still  _ haven’t told him about Dooku?” 

Obi-Wan faltered in his step. “Anakin, what is he talking about you? You said that you just couldn’t get to Dooku in time--”

“I  _ lied! _ ” Anakin bit out, and his eyes were full again, this time he didn’t even know what over. Why had Obi-Wan showed up? Why did he always _ ruin everything? _ “I  _ killed Dooku, I’ve killed more--I killed women, children, _ I would do it again _ ,  _ Master--”

“Uh-uh, Anakin. Master Kenobi is not the one you should be calling Master anymore,” 

Obi-Wan was still chilled from Anakin’s words, but at Palpatine’s, he turned, a fury glinting in his eyes that Anakin had never seen before. “ _ My apprentice  _ will  _ never  _ call you  _ Master! _ ” Obi-Wan swung his lightsaber and it was stopped, mere inches away from Palpatine’s face, not by Palpatine’s own Force, but by Anakin’s.

Palpatine really  _ did  _ trust him, Anakin realized, as he stopped Obi-Wan’s lightsaber with the movement of his hand. “ _ Wait!  _ It’s true, Obi-Wan, it’s true. I will call him Master. I’m going to pledge myself to the Sith Order. You can’t  _ kill him! _ ” 

“ _ What? _ ” Obi-Wan gaped, keeping his Force pressed against Palpatine but turning to stare at Anakin with his brow knitted in confusion. “I don’t know what he’s said to you, what kind of  _ lies _ \--” 

“I need him  _ alive! _ ” Anakin shouted, hand trembling slightly with the exertion of holding Obi-Wan off of Palpatine. “I need him to  _ save you!”  _

Now Obi-Wan was really gaping.  _ Why?  _

In the time that they had their exchange, Palpatine had summoned his powers back up and shot a wave of lightning at Obi-Wan. The Jedi deflected it with his lightsaber, but he was distracted, and stumbled backward. This gave Anakin the chance to sweep over, and place himself between Obi-Wan and Palpatine. He had sheathed his lightsaber, but he knew that Obi-Wan would never take a swing at him, he would never hurt him. 

_ Please stop, you’re scaring me!  _

“You’re going to  _ die _ , Obi-Wan!” Anakin couldn’t tell if he was screaming or sobbing at this point, and he could feel Palpatine’s Force pulling from behind him, fuelling the anger and emotions bubbling inside him, and it overpowered the love, the goodness that Obi-Wan’s own Force signature was radiating in front of him.

“Wh--”

“Not  _ now _ , but you’re going to  _ die _ \--and  _ I kill you--” _

Obi-Wan looked more confused than ever, and Anakin just missed the glints of fear in his eyes.

“ _ Childbirth,  _ Obi-Wan, you’re going to  _ die in childbirth _ ,  _ I saw it!  _ Palpatine  _ saw it, too--he’s the only one who can save you _ !” 

Obi-Wan scoffed, and reached out with the hand not on his lightsaber, reaching for Anakin. “Anakin, it’s  _ not true _ . It was probably  _ just a nightmare _ . You’ve never had prophetic visions before, why would you start now?”

“ _ I don’t know! But-- _ ”

“Besides, what you’re talking about, Anakin--it’s  _ urban legend _ . It’s just Sith legend!”

“ _ No-- _ ”

“Darth Sidious,” Obi-Wan spat out the name like it was just a bad taste in his mouth, and Obi-Wan could feel Palpatine ruffle behind him. “Cannot save me. And even if  _ he could _ , even if I  _ were  _ dying and he were the only one in the entire galaxy who could save me, I wouldn’t  _ want  _ him to.”

Anakin’s face crumpled, and Obi-Wan’s fingers just brushed his cheek. 

“He  _ can’t _ do what he’s said, Anakin, he’s  _ polluting  _ your mind--” 

Anakin spun around, back to Obi-Wan and facing Palpatine. “Can you  _ save him? Can you stop his death? _ ” 

“Of course I can, Anakin. I told you that I could, and I can. I have never lied to you.  _ Master  _ Kenobi has more to answer for in that area than I do.” Palpatine stared into Anakin’s eyes, the Force flowing between them, thick and caustic. “I  _ will  _ save him, Anakin. I will keep him, and the twins, safe for as long as I live, all you have to do is  _ join me _ .” 

Obi-Wan’s voice shattered before Anakin could even think. “You’re  _ The Chosen One!  _ You’re supposed to  _ destroy the Sith, not join them!  _ Take him, Anakin, it’s your  _ destiny!” _

_ // It’s your destiny, Anakin. //  _

_ // I would understand if you wanted to stay in The Order, Anakin, you are The Chosen One. // _

_ // You will be given a seat on the Council, but you will not be made a Jedi Master. // _

_ // Jedi scum //  _

_ // Check his vitals //  _

_ // I will save him //  _

**_Goddamn right, you should be scared of me!_ **

_ “No! _ ” Anakin shouted and he spun around, his Force radiating from it, more powerful than ever. All he had intended to do was knock Obi-Wan’s lightsaber from his hand, but instead, he watched helplessly as his Force reached out, darkened and twisted, wrapped itself around Obi-Wan’s neck until he was choking, then flung him across the room unceremoniously. Obi-Wan landed in a heap on the floor, his lightsaber lying a foot away from his outstretched hand, useless. Anakin stared at what he’d done, horror slowly creeping into the back of his mind. _ He would never hurt Obi-Wan _ . His Force groped out toward Obi-Wan and he felt it all--pain, heartbreak, sadness. It was stifling.

“ _ Very good,  _ Anakin, I see you’ll make a fine apprentice yet.”

Palpatine’s words were lost on Anakin though, because almost immediately after the impact of what he had done--he had  _ hurt  _ Obi-Wan--really hit him, he had abandoned the fight, the pledging, all of it, and was crouching by Obi-Wan’s side. 

“Obi-Wan,  _ Obi-Wan _ ,” he reached out to touch Obi-Wan’s shoulder and watched in horror as Obi-Wan recoiled away from him,  _ in fear _ , “Obi-Wan  _ please,  _ I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,  _ I can’t watch you die--” _

Obi-Wan’s face was stricken with heartache, and he wilted, staring up at Anakin, eyes glazed with pain. “You hurt us, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, hand bracing on his stomach with a grimace as the twins kicked against him in fear, “The only thing that will kill us is  _ you _ . If you do this, if you  _ pledge yourself  _ to the Sith Order, then  _ we  _ will be losing  _ you _ .”

Anakin watched, face still blank with horror as Obi-Wan spoke. 

“Anakin  _ please, I love you!”  _

_ I love you, too, that’s why I’m doing this.  _

Before Anakin could respond, Palpatine had closed in on them. 

“Let me make this choice  _ even _ easier for you, Anakin,” Palpatine hissed, lightning sparking at his fingertips. “You can submit to me  _ now _ , and I will give  _ Master Kenobi  _ the chance to walk away. You go back on our deal, you stay with these  _ Jedi scum-- _ I will kill both of you right here, right now, and you’ll never know if your visions are prophetic or not.” 

“I will  _ never  _ let you touch him!” Anakin shouted, but no sooner had he gotten his lightsaber out then Palpatine sent a volt of lightning his way and sent him flying. It hit him without the shield of his lightsaber, and he screamed, though his voice sounded separate from his body. 

“Anakin, you  _ know there is darkness flowing through you _ ,  _ you can’t deny it any longer!  _ You  _ enjoyed  _ killing that ancient, just like you  _ enjoyed  _ killing those women, children, like you  _ enjoyed  _ killing Dooku! You’re a  _ killer _ , Anakin. It runs through your blood, just like the midichlorians do. You’ll  _ never  _ be the Jedi you’re supposed to be, because you’re meant to be a  _ Sith!  _ Can’t you feel it, Anakin? Feel it  _ flowing through you--” _

Palpatine had made just one mistake while spewing his venomous words over Anakin, and that was completely underestimate Obi-Wan Kenobi. He always had underestimated the pacifist, pregnant Jedi, and now, it would prove to be his fatal mistake. The last mistake he would ever make. He had been so preoccupied with finding Anakin’s shatterpoint, that he hadn’t considered Obi-Wan’s. 

And with one sudden arc of blue plasma, Palpatine was on the ground, Obi-Wan was standing over him, breath ragged and lightsaber in hand, and two things were very clear-- 1. Darth Sidious  _ did not  _ know how to stop death. 2. Obi-Wan Kenobi absolutely  _ was  _ the right man for the job. 

“No one is born Sith,” Obi-Wan said down to Palpatine’s crumpled, lifeless body, voice steady, though his breathing was still heavy, “The Force flows through all of us,  _ evil  _ does not.  _ Evil  _ is a choice. And regardless of what my apprentice has chosen in the past, he will never choose  _ you _ , he will never choose the _ Sith _ .” Obi-Wan’s gaze moved from Palpatine, to Anakin, who was still lying on the ground, panting and staring up at Obi-Wan with wide eyes. “And he won’t choose the Jedi either. He’ll choose  _ us _ . Because I trust him.  _ I  _ trust him. I  _ trust  _ him. I trust  _ him _ .” With that, Obi-Wan tossed his lightsaber to the side. It clanked onto the floor unceremoniously and rolled away, and Obi-Wan held his hand out toward Anakin. 

It took Anakin approximately 2.5 seconds to grip it and haul himself to his feet, then launch his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck, sobbing full force. “ _ I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so, sorry, Master--Obi-Wan, I’m sorry--”  _

Obi-Wan’s arms latched around Anakin’s waist and he pulled him in tight, their bodies flush together. The twins were moving around between them, more confused and curious than distressed--thankfully not hurt when Obi-Wan had been thrown earlier. “ _ I love you _ ,” he whispered fiercely, “You are  _ good _ , Anakin--”

“You don’t know what I’ve done, Master--you don’t know--I  _ killed so many-- _ ”

“Then tell me, Anakin, tell me what you’ve done--or don’t. Either way, you are  _ good _ . Above being a great Jedi, you are a  _ good man _ , and that’s why I love you. Not because you’re The Chosen One, not because of your  _ destiny _ . The only thing I care about your destiny, is whether or not I’m in it. I’m sorry if I’ve never made that clear to you.” 

Anakin was still crying, and Obi-Wan sunk to the floor with him, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around Anakin. “Shh,  _ it’s okay, _ Ani, it’s okay,” Obi-Wan rarely used the cute nickname, it had always been something a little too silly, a little too cutesy for Obi-Wan. He used it now, used it to tell Anakin how much he loved him.  _ Him.  _ Not Anakin Skywalker, The Chosen One, but Ani, his beloved padawan, faithful companion, the great love of his life, and the only one in almost forty years who had really, truly learned how to make him laugh. He loved Anakin deeply, truly--and he thought that seeing him kneeling in front of Darth Sidious would make him love Anakin less, would denigrate his trust, but in reality it only made him love Anakin all that much more. In so many ways, Anakin was still so young. This was still his padawan who had lost an arm at the age of nineteen because he’d stupidly thrown himself into a fight he was unmatched in, in order to protect Obi-Wan. Except now, Anakin had been willing to pay with so much more than an arm. He had been willing to lay down his life, his soul, his goodness, his Force, and above all else, his  _ Freedom  _ for Obi-Wan. Anakin, who grew up a slave, who regularly chafed at being a Jedi because of the lack of freedom, had been willing to enslave himself to Darth Sidious, to the most odious creature in the entire galaxy, if it meant protecting Obi-Wan. The very thought made Obi-Wan’s heartache so badly that he thought he might die, and he wasn’t sure there were any words in any language to convey how much it meant to him, and how fiercely he loved Anakin in that moment.  

“ _ I’m sorry, I’m so sorry _ ,” 

Anakin cried and cried and cried, and Obi-Wan let him, holding him all the while. They would alert the Jedi Council soon. Tell them that there was one less Sith Lord in the galaxy, tell them that  _ Anakin Skywalker  _ had fulfilled his prophecy. As far as Obi-Wan was concerned, he had. Anakin had come to the Jedi v Sith crossroad, and he had picked neither, he had forged his own path. He was the definition of balanced, he had dark in him and he had light in him, and more importantly than any of that, he was  _ Obi-Wan’s.  _ And no Sith Lord or Jedi Council would ever come between them.

Obi-Wan kissed Anakin’s tears away under the lights from the bustling, unaware city. 

.

.

The Council hadn’t been thrilled to pieces when Obi-Wan and Anakin called everyone to an emergency meeting in the earliest hours of morning, only to reveal the body of Darth Sidious, and a conspiracy plot by the Sith to gain control of the Senate, the Courts, then, using Anakin Skywalker, the Council. Coupled with the advances led by the Separatists, they could have had full galactic control within a month. 

No one had said it, but  _ of course  _ it was Kenobi and Skywalker who just happened to overturn a master plan overnight. It was a cause for suspicion, but no one could deny that it was relatively good news. Still, everyone was tired, and it wasn’t conducive to a meeting free from snide comments. Anakin was still just a little sniffly and red-eyed, and Obi-Wan was sore all over, and far too tired to be shielding from an entire room full of Jedi. 

“What I still don’t understand--and bear with me on this one--is  _ how  _ the Chancellor, Darth Sidious that is, was so confident in his ability to ensure Anakin’s compliance? Did he hold something  _ over  _ Anakin, because if so, I think it would only be beneficial if it was shared with the Council, so that the same vantage point could not be utilized in the future--”

“Oh for  _ Force sake _ \--he was  _ gaslighting  _ the boy, Mace, was that not clear? Stepping up and becoming the parental figure Anakin doesn’t have? Classic--”

“The parental figure that Anakin doesn’t have? I thought that was  _ you _ , Kenobi--” Mace Windu shot back, serving Obi-Wan a look that made him set his jaw and scoot to the edge of his chair.

Anakin was on edge, fingers gripping at the edge of his seat, and blood pounding in his ears. After Obi-Wan’s big show of tossing away his lightsaber earlier, after they had sat together in the floor and Anakin had expunged his pent up fear, anger, and tears, they had exchanged a few sweet nothings, then Anakin had asked if they were still going to wait until Obi-Wan delivered to withdraw from the Order.  _ Naturally _ , Obi-Wan had replied,  _ This is the third Sith Lord we’ve gotten for them. At this rate, in another three months, we might’ve actually stamped out all Separatist resistance for them. Who knows.  _

And Anakin didn’t mind, honestly. He would enjoy another three months of missions with Obi-Wan--so long as absolutely  _ none of them  _ were anything like the past forty-eight hours had been, because Anakin legitimately didn’t think his frail psyche would be able to handle any more experiences like that, not any time soon, not  _ ever _ . 

He would be happy to stay in the Order until then, though, but  _ Force _ . It would have been so much easier to just fess up right then and there and to say sayonara to all of these pretentious hard-asses--Anakin forgot how much they liked to  _ talk _ . 

“I find it relevant to point out, once more, that whatever Darth Sidious’s plan, whatever he thought he had over Anakin,  _ it didn’t work _ . Anakin was able to overcome him, he saw through Darth Sidious’s charade, and now we have one less Sith Lord to worry about.” Obi-Wan said curtly, levelling Mace Windu back with a look that quieted him for the time being. 

“Does this mean that Anakin has  _ fulfilled  _ the prophecy? Destroyed the Sith, and brought balance to the Force?” someone asked, and Yoda, who had been  _ unusually quiet  _ for the entire meeting, made a gravelly, ominous sounding noise from where he sat perched on a cushion. 

“Where one Sith falls, another will grow in his place. Such the way of the Force, it is.” Yoda said, squinting just slightly. 

“ _ Well then what’s even the point of the prophecy? _ ” 

“Is it even  _ true?”  _

“Yes,” was all Yoda said in response, and it might’ve been funny if it hadn’t let to a complete deterioration of the conversation once more, Jedi speaking louder and louder to get over one another, and Obi-Wan sat still until he couldn’t bear it any longer, then sat out a large wave of Force to ripple over and silence everyone. 

Everyone was stunned by the sudden and impertinent use of the Force and turned to gawk at Obi-Wan, who flushed a little. It hadn’t been his wisest move, drawing attention to himself when he was already tired and not shielding the twins’ blooming Force signatures as well as he should have been, but he was so tired, and frustrated with the conversation, and all he wanted to do was take Anakin back to bed and keep him there for the rest of the week, until they had both mentally and physically recovered from the Darth Sidious dilemma. 

“A little unorthodox for a Council meeting, Master Kenobi…” Mace Windu said flatly, as everyone else around the room shifted, disgruntled, and Anakin hid a smile behind the sleeve of his robe.

“I think we can,  _ at the very least,  _ agree that Darth Sidious’s elimination means one less, and a setback to Separatist Forces, especially coupled with General Grievous’s elimination. It may not be a complete victory yet, but it is a step in the right direction.” Obi-Wan directed his comment at Yoda specifically, who nodded and hummed, as if digesting his words.

“Yes, right Master Kenobi is. Gone the threat of Darth Sidious is, and forward we must move,” Yoda finally said with a nod, “Council is dismissed, Thursday assignments will be given.”

There was a bit of grumbling around the room, but no one could really protest as no one wanted to argue with Master Yoda--it was  _ impossible  _ to win an argument with Master Yoda, words were his specialty--and no one could really claim that they wanted to be there to watch the suns completely rise. 

“Skywalker, Kenobi--not yet may you go,” Yoda held up a hand to stop then, and Obi-Wan barely stifled a groan. He saw Mace Windu shoot them a rather smug look on the way out, and Anakin resolved right then and there something that he would not miss about being on the Jedi Council. 

“Yes, Master Yoda?” Obi-Wan and Anakin chorused, glancing at each other after they spoke at the same time. They must have both been anxious. 

“Worry, not. News I have not. Something to you, I have.” Yoda hopped off of the cushion, and both Obi-Wan and Anakin looked down and watched him walk across the floor until he got to the holoprojector. 

“Watched the holos from last night, I did, and very interesting I found them, very interesting indeed…”

Obi-Wan and Anakin shared another glance, Anakin’s eyes panicked and Obi-Wan’s heart dropped straight into his stomach. “Master Yoda, I hardly think this is necessary--” 

Yoda held up a small hand to stop Obi-Wan mid-sentence, and all Obi-Wan could do was bite his tongue and watch as a holo of Darth Sidious and Anakin popped up. It was footage from before he had arrived, and though he had felt Anakin’s Force signature like wild during the confrontation, he didn’t actually know any of what was said, explicitly. He felt Anakin tense next to him, and his hand reflexively shot out to wrap around Anakin’s wrist comfortingly. 

_It’s them or_ _Obi-Wan Kenobi!_ The projection of Palpatine threatened, and Obi-Wan felt his heart convulse in his chest, fingers gripping at Anakin’s wrist even tighter. 

They watched the scene unfold for a little while longer, Palpatine detailing the circumstances of Obi-Wan’s inevitable death, the small holo of Anakin breaking at the words, and Master Yoda was merciful enough to fast-forward, though he wasn’t merciful enough to turn it off altogether. The next image was a holo of them embracing, Palpatine’s shrivelled figure on the floor at their feet.

_ I love you. You are good, Anakin-- _

Obi-Wan watched the holo of him confess his undying love to Anakin, and Yoda made a little damn humming noise at it, and his entire face was flaming at this point. He was about to beg the Jedi Master to turn it off, but Yoda finally took mercy on them and switched it off. Obi-Wan glanced over and saw that Anakin’s face was just as red, he was also a little teary eyed again. Obi-Wan squeezed his wrist. He supposed physical contact wasn’t too risky, now that Yoda knew...well, everything. At least they hadn’t had  _ sex  _ in the aftermath. Obi-Wan thought he really would just die if Master Yoda ever saw one of their sex tapes. 

“Master Yoda--”

“Good Jedis, you are, Masters Kenobi and Skywalker… Good at keeping secrets, you are not,” Yoda mused, taking the holorecord with him and patting it gently.

“Master-- _ please _ , has--has anyone else from the Council seen?” Obi-Wan asked, completely terrified to hear the answer. If Master Windu had seen that--if he knew--well, Obi-Wan knew that his resignation to the Order would be due that afternoon. 

“Only I have seen,” Yoda replied, hopping back up onto his cushion, as Obi-Wan and Anakin trailed him. 

Neither Anakin or Obi-Wan knew what to say, but Anakin kind of nudged Obi-Wan, as if to prompt him to speak, and Obi-Wan spluttered something out. “Master--nothing has changed. I still plan to tell the Council, and resign my place in the Order. The only thing I didn’t mention before--and it’s because I did not know, in earnest--is that Anakin...will also be resigning his place in the Order. We will both be relocating, and fulfilling the great honour to our people of repopulating the Force in the galaxy, and heading our own family. We just wanted to wait, until it was closer to my…  _ delivery  _ time, to resign.” 

Yoda hummed gently, and toyed with the holorecord, then gently snapped it in half. 

Obi-Wan and Anakin both almost visibly sagged with relief. 

“Losing great Jedis I will be,” Yoda told them, “Great Jedis who more cautious around holocameras should be.” 

They both nodded emphatically, and if Master Yoda was capable of amused fondness, that’s what was glinting in his large eyes. 

“Easier missions will I give the two of you, the twins safe will stay,” Yoda promised, and at the word  _ twins _ , Obi-Wan’s eyes widened and he had to wonder if Master Yoda hadn’t actually known everything all along. 

“Thank you, Master Yoda.” Obi-Wan said, and Anakin his thanks as well. 

They both turned to leave, however Anakin turned last minute and Obi-Wan stopped and turned back to see what was wrong. 

“Master Yoda, do you remember when I came to you, and said that I was having those prophetic dreams?” Anakin asked, watching as Yoda nodded his head and blinked in affirmation. “Well, do you think it’s possible… Darth Sidious knew  _ all about them.  _ Graphically, vividly, he described them to me. I know it’s possible for all Force sensitive individuals to have the gift of foresight but do you think it’s possible… Do you think it’s possible that Darth Sidious fabricated that vision? To manipulate me?” 

Yoda hummed, and Anakin knew right there and then that he wasn’t going to get a straight answer, and he grit his teeth in vague annoyance.

“That is highly possible, I think, since no other prophetic visions you have had,” Yoda agreed, and it wasn’t exactly a straight-forward answer, but Anakin still felt as though he’d had an anvil lifted from his chest. “If no other visions you have, most likely it is.” 

Anakin could have fallen to the floor and started weeping again, but instead he just thanked Yoda, and then followed Obi-Wan out of the meeting room. 

As soon as they were outside, and in the empty hallway, Anakin pinned Obi-Wan to the door and kissed him hard.

“ _ Anakin-- _ inappropriate--” Obi-Wan muttered against Anakin’s hot mouth. Anyone could walk by and see, he was sure Master Yoda could feel from within the room, it was an egregious public display of affection.

“Don’t care,” Anakin replied, sealing Obi-Wan’s mouth in another kiss.

Obi-Wan didn’t care either.

.


	4. Third Trimester

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for this chapter being substantially shorter than the others, it's basically just the fallout from the last chapter. There will be an epilogue chapter after this, then that's it! I hope you enjoy!

As they moved forward from the trauma on Utapau, Grievous, and Palpatine, everything else moved forward as well. Issions continued, though true to Yoda’s word, they were scaled down from the missions they’d undergone in the past. Rebuilding in the Senate came to, largely overseen by Padme, which gave Anakin an opportunity to spend more time with her before his inevitable departure in a few months time. 

And as Jedi life moved on, so did Obi-Wan’s pregnancy. 

So did the pregnancy symptoms. 

If he had thought that morning sickness was the worst of it, in the beginning, that was only because he’d yet to experience the rest of the symptoms. 

Bad enough that his feet seemed to be permanently swollen, and shoving them into his boots was a painful, inconvenient ordeal, and bad enough that his hormones were so out of check that he almost started crying the previous week, just because the planet that he and Anakin went to on a mission was  _ cold _ , or that he nearly started humping Anakin’s leg sometimes because his sex drive was through the roof. 

That was all bad enough, downright embarrassing even. 

Obi-Wan thought that it couldn’t get any worse. 

Then the cravings had set in. 

Being a Jedi, Obi-Wan had learned to repress, and rid himself of desire for the more sensual pleasures in life. For the most part it had worked, until Anakin turned fifteen or so, and Obi-Wan found himself lusting for the carnal pleasures that Anakin so obviously wanted to provide him. However, even after that downfall, Obi-Wan stayed immune to the other sensual pleasures life had to offer, including food. 

However, apparently the twins in his stomach had other ideas. 

It started off small, and Obi-Wan found himself wanting to drink copious amounts of blue milk, something he’d not had since he was a child. He’d managed to procure a little from downtown Coruscant, and Anakin didn’t question it, even drank a little, and if it had stayed with just the blue milk, then Obi-Wan may have been able to deal.

It didn’t stop at blue milk. 

Obi-Wan found himself with a deep craving for salted pickles, dark chocolate, and purple melon, preferably all at the same time, though by the time Anakin walked into their quarters from training Ahsoka--still a little sweaty, hair sticking to his forehead, and if Obi-Wan weren’t so focused on his grumbling stomach, he would have crawled across the sitting room floor to get to Anakin on hands and knees--he would have settled for just one or two of those things. 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan sat up from where he had been laying on the couch, as sitting for too long could put an uncomfortable strain on his back, one hand coming to reflexively rest on and support his baby bump, “Strange question, I am aware, but I was wondering--do you think any of the Temple kitchens have salted pickles, dark chocolate, and, or purple melon? You know, like the melon we had on Naboo?” 

Anakin stared at him and blinked. “Umm. No, Master, I can’t see why they would None of those foods are exactly high in nutrients, or necessary… do Jedi even officially believe in seasoning their food?” 

Anakin was musing, and Obi-Wan’s eyes were filling with tears. He would cry at the drop of a hat these days, and crying because he wanted salted pickles and chocolate--preferably together as horrifying as it may have been--was far from the most trivial thing he’d cried over lately. 

However, Anakin, who had seen his master cry a grand total of twice, once when he’’d been a small child and didn’t understand why Obi-Wan crying in the first place, and once just a couple of weeks prior, when Obi-Wan had caught him pledging himself to Darth Sidious, was alarmed. “Master! Is everything…” Anakin furrowed his brow, too confused to even ask Obi-Wan what was the matter. “Why are you crying? What’s the matter?” 

Obi-Wan sniffled. “I just… I’m really hungry, Anakin, I really need to eat--but I don’t want to, unless it’s pickles and chocolate. And preferably purple melon from Naboo.” Obi-Wan replied, as if that were the most reasonable explanation in the world. 

Anakin was still staring, gaping really, and Obi-Wan huffed loudly with a roll of his still teary eyes. 

“It’s a... _ side effect  _ of pregnancy, Anakin,” Obi-Wan finally said in great frustration, watching as the understanding slowly spread across Anakin’s face. Anakin had done his best to be knowledgeable about carrying, so that he could take proper care of Obi-Wan, and he had done a very thorough job getting informed about all the medical risks and specifics of the trimesters and foetal development, mostly just to fuel his own paranoia, but he hadn’t done nearly as well learning all the day to day inconveniences. Obi-Wan tried to never resent his partner for not understanding all the little inconveniences and pains that he had to go through on a daily basis. He mostly failed. He mostly blamed that on his hormones. 

“Is crying all the time a side effect, too?” Anakin asked, and was immediately levelled with one of Obi-Wan’s glares.

“Anakin!”

Anakin held up his hands defensively and was quiet for a few moments, before lowering his hands and probing, “...is it, though?” 

Obi-Wan groaned again, and sunk back into the couch, letting his eyelids flutter shut in an attempt to blink back the hot tears. He knew it was a ridiculous thing to cry about, he knew it was all ridiculous--he was a Jedi Master, he’d trained  _ The Chosen One _ ...the Chosen One who was now standing in the middle of the sitting room, looking completely confused and out of his element, father-to-be. Obi-Wan might have wanted to laugh, he might have laughed if he had a plateful of salted pickles and chocolate in front of him. 

“I don’t know about the purple melon from Naboo,” Anakin said carefully, moving across the room and wedging his way onto the couch next to Obi-Wan, “But they probably have salted pickles and chocolate at one of the markets in downtown Coruscant.” He wrapped one arm around Obi-Wan’s waist, settling his other hand atop Obi-Wan’s stomach and sending out a gentle and steady Force pulse. His lips moved to Obi-Wan’s neck and pressed down hotly, eliciting an instant moan from his other half. It made Anakin smirk a little, and he moved his mouth to the side of Obi-Wan neck, mouth opening up hot and wet against taut skin. 

“Mmm… I don’t feel like going out, though,” Obi-Wan replied honestly--his feet were a bit swollen and it had been a long day as it was. Besides, these days Obi-Wan liked going out as little as possible. Though he still fulfilled all the missions they were assigned, and went to Council, he felt a sense of self-consciousness that he’d never felt before when out in public. When he was in the heart of Coruscant, he felt suspicious of every single creature that walked by, he wondered if each and every one of them could tell, if they  _ knew  _ that he was swollen with twins. Anakin reassured him over and over again that regardless of whether they knew or not, they didn’t  _ care _ . It was a natural part of life. Obi-Wan told him to shut up. 

Obi-Wan leaned back into Anakin’s hot kisses, tilting his head with a breathy sigh. 

“You like this, don’t you?” Anakin teased, letting his teeth graze already warmed skin, and he let one of his hands slide over the curve of Obi-Wan’s stomach and further down. Obi-Wan shivered in his arms, and pushed back into him. “I can go to the market if you want, get you the salted pickles, chocolate, see who I can kill to get the purple melon from Naboo…” Anakin’s teeth sunk into the base of Obi-Wan’s neck. “Or I can stay here, and make you forget about the salted pickles, chocolate, and purple melon from Naboo…” 

Obi-Wan blinked once, then sighed.

It was a no-brainer, the choice was easy. 

Anakin may or may not have cursed the entire time that he walked back to the Temple an hour later carrying a large purple melon, and a bag filled with salted pickles and chocolate. 

.

“Anakin?”

“Hmmm?” Anakin perked up, vaguely surprised that Obi-Wan was the one to break the silence. They had been watching a mindless holovid, Anakin had started dozing halfway through--he honestly had the worst attention span sometimes and was always terrible about seeing holovids all the way through until the end--and Obi-Wan had been watching rather intently, Anakin thought, and occasionally playing with his hair. They both coveted their quiet evenings together, as they were still relatively rare to come by due to missions, though Obi-Wan always seemed to treasure the silence just a little more than Anakin. 

“Do I still...turn you on?” Even after all this time, Obi-Wan could still be so awkward while talking about sex, and Anakin didn’t miss the quiet, embarrassed way that he cleared his throat. 

“ _ Of course  _ you do. What kind of question is that, Master?” Anakin asked, stretching a little, then rolling over so that he could prop himself up on one elbow and gaze at Obi-Wan and away from the holovid. 

“We can’t…” Obi-Wan trailed off, and Anakin scrunched his nose, confused. Couldn’t what? It’s not exactly like they’d been chaste since Obi-Wan got pregnant. If anything, they’d been having sex  _ more _ often than before. They had sex almost every night, even when they were both exhausted from missions, even when they were still  _ on  _ missions, in order to temper Obi-Wan’s hormonal surges. Anakin couldn’t lie and say that how needy Obi-Wan’s out-of-balance hormones made him wasn’t an ego boost, and he really couldn’t complain. He watched Obi-Wan’s eyes trail downward, to his stomach, and Anakin scrunched his face, even more. 

“What, do you not want to have sex anymore?” Anakin asked, sorely hoping that wasn’t where this conversation was going.

He felt an innocent wave of exasperation roll off of Obi-Wan, and he tilted his head slightly in response. 

“That’s not it,  _ yes _ , I still want to, I just can’t… I can’t fuck you now, with... _ this  _ in the way,” Obi-Wan waved his hand toward his stomach distastefully. The baby bump wasn’t that obtrusive, but it was sizeable enough that if he and Anakin embraced, it pressed against Anakin and prevented full body contact. Loose tunics and robes--which Obi-Wan had thankfully always worn, unlike Anakin who preferred his form fitting black outfits--were their only saving grace, and the only way they managed to conceal Obi-Wan’s obviously pregnant form from the Jedi Council and the Senate, and the Republic Fleets, for that matter. Anakin couldn’t imagine Rex and all of the Clones reacting very well to finding out that they were serving under a pregnant general. Due to the significant Force signature their baby was beginning to develop, Obi-Wan pretty firmly believed that the Jedi Council should already know, and was potentially just protecting his dignity by letting him admit to it on his own. Anakin pointed out that the power of disbelief was a strong force, maybe stronger than  _ The Force _ , and if the Council all believed it was impossible, they might ignore their own intuition. Obi-Wan didn’t know which option made him feel worse. 

At Obi-Wan’s admittance, understanding flattened out Anakin’s expression and he wet his lips unconsciously in thought. It was true, he hadn’t bottomed in over six months. Anakin really hadn’t given it any prior thought, but now that Obi-Wan brought it up,  For almost the first two months of Obi-Wan’s pregnancy, they hadn’t had any sort of sex. From Obi-Wan trying to hide the pregnancy from him, to their fight, to their intense mission, and subsequent reconciliation, there hadn’t been the time nor inclination to do so. When they finally kissed and made up, and fell back into bed with each other, Obi-Wan had just started to show. At the barely over two months point, the bump wasn’t nearly enough to  _ prevent  _ Obi-Wan from topping, but it had made him slightly uncomfortable doing it, and it seemed that there was just a mutual, though unspoken, understanding that Anakin would top for the duration of the pregnancy. 

Now, however, Anakin was starting to feel bad, as though that understanding had been a misperception, and he scooted closer to Obi-Wan, scattering a few kisses across his face. “I’m sorry. You know I would’ve let you fuck me anytime…” Anakin moved a hand to feather against Obi-Wan’s jaw, thumbing over his bottom lip.

“Nothing to apologize for, Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmured, wetting Anakin’s thumb with his tongue, “I just want to satisfy you, and I know I’m not as equipped to do that as I once was.” 

Now Anakin’s confused look was back full force. “What? You think you haven’t been satisfying me?” he asked incredulously, pushing his thumb past Obi-Wan’s lips for a moment before moving his hand back into Obi-Wan’s hair. 

“Well, I can’t help but worry… I can’t do everything I used to be able to do…” Obi-Wan trailed off, and Anakin’s mouth was pressing more kisses to his face then.

“Obi-Wan, for such a wise, enlightened,  _ sagely _ Jedi Master--you sure are dumb sometimes,” There was no venom in Anakin’s voice and he kissed Obi-Wan’s mouth. “I’ve been coming in your ass every night, what more proof do you want that you satisfy me? Besides, you’re not just some toy to make me come, I care more about just being with you than what we  _ do _ .” Anakin kissed him again, and pushed a few strands of his hair back, and Obi-Wan kissed back, a little awed and teary eyed. Anakin had always been sweet,  _ always,  _ even when he was a bratty nine year old. Anakin could be angry and harsh and reactionary, but when he was devoted, he was  _ devoted _ . His whole heart, his whole mind, his whole soul, he had offered them happily and freely to Obi-Wan once he decided that he was worth the devotion, and it hadn’t taken too long. No, Anakin’s sweet words didn’t surprise him, but his level of maturity did. Anakin was always impossible to talk to about anything, he was  _ so  _ reactionary, and just the slightest thing made him lose his cool. Obi-Wan had expected at least a little anger when he broached the topic, he could just hear  _ How could you even think that, Obi-Wan? How dare you--?!  _ When he’d voiced the insecurity. Anakin’s relatively calm and loving reassurance made Obi-Wan feel like crying. 

He didn’t cry though, he just kissed Anakin back like he meant it, and stroked his hair affectionately. “Okay, Anakin,” he murmured in response. It was still a point of insecurity--just as his slight limitations on missions now were--but if Anakin said he didn’t mind, then Obi-Wan would give him the courtesy of believing him. But it didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to try and find a way  _ around _ his limitations… “For my own peace of mind, though, let me pleasure you.” 

“Hmm, sounds like a pretty big imposition, Master…”

Obi-Wan kicked harmlessly at Anakin’s ankle and Anakin laughed, and pulled Obi-Wan in for another kiss. This time he forcefully took Obi-Wan’s hand and guided it down his leggings, murmuring something along the lines of  _ you don’t have to ask me twice _ . Obi-Wan laughed, muffled by Anakin’s tongue, and rolled his eyes, but wrapped his hand around Anakin’s half-hard cock anyway, stroking him to full erection and feeling his insecurities slowly evaporate like mist at the little breathy noises that Anakin made. They were the same noises that Anakin had made when he was an inexperienced padawan, and Obi-Wan was glad that he could still make Anakin make those noises. 

After he got Anakin fully hard, he swiped his thumb over the head of his cock, then pulled his hand away.

“Master--!”

“Shhh,” Obi-Wan pressed a finger to Anakin’s lips, dragging it down slowly, then tapping his chin. “I have something else in mind for you tonight, Anakin.”

“What?” Anakin asked impatiently, rutting up against Obi-Wan’s thigh ineffectively and making the older Jedi laugh. 

“Just because there are some positions I can’t do, doesn’t mean that things are out all together…”

Anakin furrowed his brow. “What are you saying?”

“Sit on my face, Anakin.” 

Obi-Wan could probably count the times that he’d seen Anakin truly blush in bed on one hand, and there wasn’t a second of watching Anakin turn bright red and splutter that he didn’t enjoy. He laughed a little at Anakin’s expense and tugged him in closer, prompting him to undress, though he cheated a little and used the Force to coax Anakin’s leggings down. 

“You want me to... _ sit on your face? _ ” Anakin repeated, face still warm. His cock leaked precome at the thought, and his pupils were wider than Obi-Wan had seem them in a while. 

“Yes. I want to eat you out, Anakin--” Anakin groaned, he was always hopelessly aroused when Obi-Wan’s dirty talk was so matter-of fact. “And I think that this position would be the easiest for me. Wouldn’t want to hurt Little Nibs…” 

“I…” Anakin spluttered a little and shifted uneasily onto his knees, but still didn’t move. “I don’t know about this, Master, I don’t want to hurt  _ you _ …”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “You won’t hurt me, Anakin, I promise. And we don’t have to continue if you don’t like it when you try it.” 

Anakin sighed, and finally began to shift. “Tell me if it gets uncomfortable for you?” he asked, finally comforted enough by Obi-Wan’s nod that he swung one leg over to the other side of Obi-Wan’s head and straddled him.

Obi-Wan let him get in position first, then reached up to grasp his hips and pulled him down onto his face. Anakin sharply inhaled a breath, and Obi-Wan smirked, nipping softly at Anakin’s plush ass, and feeling how Anakin restrained his hips from jerking beneath his fingertips. All he could feel was arousal and slight nerves in Anakin’s Force signature, so Obi-Wan took that as the green light and spread Anakin open then buried his face. 

“ _ Ahhh! _ ” Anakin cried out when Obi-Wan’s tongue breached him, and he couldn’t help the way that his hips twitched into Obi-Wan’s strong grip. Obi-Wan dragged his tongue over Anakin’s tight entrance--he hadn’t been penetrated in months and was agonizingly tight as a result--flicking it forcefully and earning a gasp from Anakin, who reflexively pushed his hips down against Obi-Wan’s face. 

Obi-Wan laughed softly, and repeated the motion a few times before swirling his tongue around and lubricating Anakin’s entrance as best as he could with his saliva. 

Anakin was still fighting against the urge to grind, but his face was glazed in pleasured and his cock was leaking precome on Obi-Wan’s face, a sight so hot that it made him swear occasionally and shut his eyes. Obi-Wan stroked his hands up and down Anakin’s thighs a few times, then wrapped them back around his hips and shoved him down forcefully, wriggling his tongue past the tight ring of muscles and into Anakin’s heat. Anakin had dissolved into loud, steady moans by this point, and Obi-Wan fucked his tongue into him a few more times, just teasing, before withdrawing and lapping at him for a solid couple of minutes.

Anakin was getting whiny, trying to rock his hips back against Obi-Wan’s tongue, needy for penetration, but Obi-Wan held his hips steady and just licked, giving Anakin just enough pleasure to make him ache but not enough to make him come. Obi-Wan hummed, then sucked gently at Anakin’s entrance, which made Anakin’s abdomen tighten. He rubbed Anakin’s now-shaking thighs, and squeezed, chuckling at the hiss Anakin made. 

He removed his face far enough to tease Anakin and ask, “You want to ride my face, don’t you?”

Anakin whined. “ _ Obi-Wan, please--! _ ”

Obi-Wan laughed breathlessly and then yanked Anakin’s hips back down and entered him again, pushing his tongue past the resisting muscle and soothing them softly before building up a steady rhythm. He kept his hands on Anakin’s hips but loosened his hold, coaxing them to move in the same steady rhythm that his tongue was. Anakin didn’t need all that much encouragement, as soon as he got the non-verbal permission from Obi-Wan, he pressed down onto Obi-Wan’s tongue to get it as deep as possible, then fucked down against his mouth at a nearly-frantic pace. 

Obi-Wan didn’t let Anakin do all the work, keeping his hands on his hips to steady him and curving his tongue in Anakin to seek out his prostate. Finding it was a bit of work with how desperately Anakin was grinding, but once he did, Anakin screamed and Obi-Wan flicked his tongue against it in satisfaction. 

It only took a few more forceful laps from his tongue for Anakin to come completely undone, and Obi-Wan had to shut his eyes, as cum splattered across his face, in his hair, and on the duvet. 

Anakin was breathing raggedly and he sat for a few moments trying to collect himself. When he tried to move, Obi-Wan’s hands clenched his hips and held him in place. 

“Oh come on-- _ ahhh! _ ”

Obi-Wan took advantage of his weak legs and held him down, exploring his sensitive, licked out ass for a few minutes after Anakin’s orgasm. Revenge, Anakin knew, for all the times that Anakin had done the same thing to him. Overstimulation was one of Anakin’s favourite tactics, but he could be very petulant when paid back in kind. “ _ F-fuck, Obi-Wan, stop, no f-fair-- _ ” Obi-Wan ignored him and only vowed to go longer the more Anakin complained. 

Obi-Wan ate him out, slower and more tortuously this time, and Anakin’s spent cock twitched pathetically a few times as he whimpered, biting his lip and trying to take the overstimulation obediently. 

When Obi-Wan finally stopped, Anakin whined a little at the loss, even though his thighs and abdomen were both quivering. Obi-Wan rubbed his thighs affectionately and then helped hoist Anakin off of his face. Anakin just kind of toppled onto the bed, slumping against the pillow, and Obi-Wan scooted up to wrap his arms around Anakin’s waist. Anakin reciprocated the affection without thought, slumping further down into the bed and pressing a sweet kiss to Obi-Wan’s forehead, nuzzling against him. “How was that for your ego?” Anakin teased, tangling their feet together.

Obi-Wan smiled in spite of himself. “A beautiful, powerful Jedi sitting on my face? Pretty good, I’d say…”

Anakin laughed, though Obi-Wan calling him beautiful did earn him a few extra kisses. 

“How was it for you?” Obi-Wan asked, though the fact that Anakin’s legs were still quivering a little told him everything he needed to know. 

“Let’s just say that we should hope our Little Nibs in there,” Anakin said breathily with a lazy wave toward Obi-Wan’s stomach, then an affectionate little rub, “inherit all the things you can do with your tongue, Master. Then they’ll make some Jedi  _ very  _ happy one day.” 

Obi-Wan scoffed, swatting at Anakin softly, then settling his hand atop Anakin’s lovingly. The closest he ever came to happily touching his own stomach. “A Jedi?” he replied, slight hints of amusement in his voice, but something a little wistful laced in. “You want our children to end up with a Jedi?”

Anakin hummed then shook his head. “Nah, you’re right. Jedi are all rubbish anyway.” He was teasing, and it made Obi-Wan laugh, so he smiled and leaned in for a kiss, which Obi-Wan happily gave him, with minimal complaining. Anakin could taste himself on Obi-Wan’s tongue and teeth, and he shivered happily, hands moving up to tangle casually in Obi-Wan’s hair. 

“My beautiful Jedi,” Obi-Wan murmured, nosing against Anakin’s face playfully, letting his hair brush against it and tickle his nose. “I’d nearly forgotten how much I love taking you apart, Anakin.” 

Anakin chuckled softly and nipped at Obi-Wan’s nose. “I’m still pretty taken apart when I fuck you, or eat  _ you _ out, you know,” he pointed out as his fingers aimlessly trailed down down Obi-Wan’s clothed torso. Now that Obi-Wan was in his second trimester, he almost  _ always  _ kept his flowy tops on, even when they were in bed. The only times that Anakin got to see his lover completely nude these days were during showers, or when he absolutely insisted and stripped Obi-Wan himself. Sometimes he would insist, and would spend a good amount of time kissing and rubbing Obi-Wan’s stomach, and never missed how vaguely uncomfortable it seemed to make Obi-Wan. 

“Mmm… Not the same,” Obi-Wan insisted, pulling Anakin closer and wrapping him up in his arms as they got under the covers, albeit it at a slightly awkward angle so that Anakin wasn’t crushing the baby bump. Most nights, Anakin would hold Obi-Wan as it was just easier and provided greater mobility with positions, but Anakin still enjoyed being held and easily melted into Obi-Wan’s strong arms. He was exhausted, physically spent from getting eaten out and tired from training with Ahsoka that day, and just wanted to snuggle up against Obi-Wan and never move again. 

“Hmm… Love it, though,” Anakin murmured, pressing his face against Obi-Wan’s neck and smacking a kiss against his throat.

“Mmm… Remember all the things I used to do to you, Anakin? Pick you up, put your thighs on my shoulders, and eat you out against the wall? Press you down against the bed, pin your ankles back, and fuck you? Bend you in  _ half? _ ” 

Anakin squirmed tiredly against Obi-Wan and he opened his mouth to say something sexy, but he could feel the angst rolling off of Obi-Wan in waves and it made him frown. “I loved you doing those things to me, Master, but I love everything we do now, too. And if you’re that desperate to  _ fuck me _ …” Anakin let his hand trail down Obi-Wan’s chest, then come to rest against his stomach. “Well, we only have three more months, then you can fuck me until I can’t even sit down.” 

Reminding Obi-Wan of the impending end of nine months hadn’t been the right thing to do, Anakin realised that almost as soon as he did it, but he was tired and hadn’t known how else to comfort Obi-Wan about this odd bout of dejected reminiscing about their sex life. However, before Anakin could apologize or offer up any more comforting words, Obi-Wan offered him a weak smile and kissed his head. “I’ll definitely be taking you up on that offer, Anakin,” Obi-Wan reached down and squeezed Anakin’s ass, then slapped it rather hard, which made Anakin squeak and giggle a little. “Now, get some sleep. I can feel you practically falling asleep.”

Anakin closed to Obi-Wan, purring happily when Obi-Wan kneaded his ass for a minute, before finally settling his hand on Anakin’s waist and keeping him held close. 

Within minutes of lying together, Obi-Wan could feel Anakin’s Force signature levelling out, subsiding to the gentle, steady thrum it always had when Anakin was asleep. It would become even more lulling once Anakin entered REM, and would only spike if he had a nightmare. Anakin’s own Force Signature made Obi-Wan rather sleepy himself, but instead of shutting his eyes and snuggling into bed next to his sleeping other half, he scrubbed a tired hand down his face and sighed. 

It wasn’t about the sex, not really. Granted, he wasn’t lying when he said that the missed aspects of their pre-pregnancy sex life. He did love topping, feeling Anakin’s tight heat clench around him, pleasuring him until his young body couldn’t take anymore and thrashed against the mattress. But it would be a total lie to say that Anakin didn’t make their new encounters pleasurable, and all in all, sex wasn’t the most important thing to Obi-Wan anyway. The most important thing was Anakin.

And the second most important thing was being a Jedi. 

His deteriorating bedroom capabilities only served as a harsh reminder, the ticking second hand on the clock--soon he would be in his third trimester, he would have to tell the Council, would have to give up missions, for then and then forever. 

He’d come so far in so many ways. The fact that he was even lying with Anakin, discussing their future, even if it was only in a joking fashion, acknowledging what was growing inside of him as more than just a foetus, an  _ it,  _ these were all benchmarks of how far he had come in accepting what he was carrying. 

How could he still have so far to go? 

When he couldn’t lie between Anakin’s legs, or pull Anakin on top of him, in fear of putting too much pressure on the baby bump, he felt such an unreasonable amount of of resentment toward the unborn child that it nearly frightened him. 

Obi-Wan firmly believed that it was entirely unfair to blame a child for any disappointments or shortcomings, as children were the clean slate, they were not at fault for their parents’ own personal failures. However, when he felt the little kicks against his uterus walls, when he felt nauseous in the middle of Council meetings because the  _ baby  _ was being temperamental--he blamed it, he didn’t want to look at it, he didn’t want to think about it. All he wanted to do was pile on loose tunics and robes and pretend that it didn’t exist, and definitely pretend that it wasn’t  _ growing _ . 

When he was impeded from doing what he wanted with, and  _ to _ , Anakin, it only served as a cruel reminder of the life growing inside of him.

Obi-Wan sighed, snuggling closer to Anakin until he could feel Anakin’s breath on his face. He tugged the covers up until they completely covered his pregnant stomach, then affectionately cupped a sleeping Anakin’s face. 

He couldn’t very well actively express the same misery over the pregnancy that he’d expressed at the beginning, couldn’t cry about it. He just wanted to forget. 

And holding Anakin in his arms, nestled under the blanket with almost every inch of them strategically pressed together, he almost could.

Almost. 

.

.

Weeks past easily, there were still rogue fleets of Separatists that seemed to crop up everywhere. There were murmurings about another Sith rising, now that Darth Sidious had been defeated.  _ There were always two _ , Master Yoda’s words rattled in his head, and Anakin shivered, fully aware that that he was meant to be the second. His confrontation with Palpatine-- _ Darth Sidious  _ rather, haunted him, and it would replay in his dreams. Except in the dreams, he wouldn’t be strong enough, he wouldn’t be able to protect Obi-Wan, a bolt of electricity from Darth Sidious would take him down and Anakin would scream. He often woke up from these nightmares screaming, and Obi-Wan would immediately be up, arms wrapped tightly around him and mouth pressed to his ear, whispering sweet comforts. Anakin would always be struck with angst-- _ You and Little Nibs need your rest, I can sleep on the couch _ \--and Obi-Wan would always scoff lighty against his ear. _ Don’t be ridiculous, Anakin. We need you here.  _ The use of ‘we’ always made Anakin’s heart do somersaults, but he always tried to remain neutral when Obi-Wan said it, afraid that if he made a big deal about it, Obi-Wan would get spooked and quit using it. Obi-Wan still seemed to be gauging how the word felt in his mouth, and Anakin hoped that one day he would think it tasted sweet like candy. 

Obi-Wan was getting more and more pregnant, now officially in his third trimester. The Force signature of their unborn was getting to be undeniable, and Obi-Wan’s stomach was taking a more definitive shape, though it was still somewhat small and fit his frame. Anakin knew it was only a matter of time now. He would let Obi-Wan choose when they told the Council, he was just along for the ride on that one, because he knew how much it meant to Obi-Wan, what a big deal it was to him. But until that day came, there was a loose end that Anakin had tied up. He had tied up his loose end with Padme, tied up his loose end with Palpatine--well, that seemed like an understatement, but he could just say that the relationship had been resolved either way. Now, it was time for him to resolve the most important relationship in his life. 

He had been putting it off, and for a while he had just convinced himself that he wouldn’t take care of it until after he and Obi-Wan told the Council, but that had just been his own selfishness talking. He owed her more than letting her find out through the grapevine, and he knew it. He just hadn’t wanted to look her in the eye and admit that he was letting her down. 

However, that afternoon he had made it his resolve to do so. Obi-Wan was off-planet for a few days, and although Anakin had nearly thrown a fit at not being assigned on the mission with him, Obi-Wan had assured him with words and kisses that it wasn’t a dangerous mission at all, it was more of a diplomacy trek if anything, and that Rex and Cody would both be there, and they were trustworthy. Anakin had relented and kissed Obi-Wan hard before he left, then dropped to his knees and kissed his stomach, murmuring sweet things. Obi-Wan had jerked him up almost as soon as his knees hit the floor,  _ Ani, no, what if someone sees?  _ The nickname had immediately caught Anakin’s attention and he smiled stupidly, kissing Obi-Wan at least four more times before finally letting him go and make his way toward the ship. Anakin felt their Force bond tug at his heart as we watched Obi-Wan walk away. Since the conception of their child, their Force bond had been growing even stronger than it already was with each passing day. Separation was almost palpable these days, and Anakin had reached a hand out toward Obi-Wan’s retreating figure, then let it fall. 

He was trying not to stew in missing Obi-Wan so much, and he figured that he might as well take advantage of the time to himself, and tie up his last loose end. So with that resolution and determination, he headed off toward the Jedi private quarters of the Temple. 

“Hey, Snips--oh, kriff, sorry!” Anakin’s hands flew to his eyes, and Obi-Wan had always warned him about barging in instead of knocking, too bad it took him walking in on his padawan changing to drive the point home. 

Ahsoka had shrieked softly, more startled than anything, then tugged her tunic the rest of the way down after she saw that it was just Anakin. “ _ Master _ , you really should knock…”

“Yes, sorry, I just got carried away…” Anakin slotted his fingers and peered through, dropping his hands with a sigh of relief when he saw Ahsoka fully dressed. A small smirk spread on his face, and Ahsoka narrowed her eyes, then lobbed something soft at him via the Force. Anakin caught it easily and his smirk widened. She made a frustrated noise in return and Anakin came close to laughing, until something akin to sadness crinkled the corners of his eyes. He would  _ miss  _ this. But he needed to tell her. He owed her more than this--he couldn’t just wait and let her find out after he had told the Council. “Snips…”

“I thought you gave me today off from training,” Ahsoka interjected with a frown, such a petulant expression, and it reminded Anakin of how he used to frown at Obi-Wan when he had still been undergoing training.  _ But Master, I don’t need any more practice with my katas! I don’t understand why I’m still doing this!  _ And Anakin couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Instead of barreling forth with what he needed to say, he threw one of the lines Obi-Wan used to use on him at her. “There’s never a real break from training--life is training, my apprentice,” and smirked when she narrowed her eyes and huffed. “Come on,” he gestured for her to follow, and felt a small ache in his heart when she did, no questions asked and no more complaints, aside from a few sighs and huffs. For all that Ahsoka was similar to him in her recklessness, slight attitude problem, and desperation to prove herself, she really was a good padawan, and Anakin felt the first real stabs of sadness he’d ever felt about saying goodbye to his life as a Jedi. 

Ahsoka followed him to the training room, and then blinked in surprise when Anakin suggested that they meditate together. She had half a mind to ask if he was okay--she was sure that she’d  _ never  _ seen her master willingly initiate meditation, but she figured that it might’ve been a test, so instead she nodded and settled into a comfortable position. She let her eyes shut, but kept her Force on high alert. She half-expected her master to sabotage attack her during the meditation session as a test, but he did not, and it discomfited her more. 

She felt the gentle unfurling of Anakin’s Force signature when he began to extract himself from his meditation, and she opened her eyes, channeling the energy she’d garnered from meditating and storing it within. “Master--”

“Ahsoka, I need to talk to you,” Anakin overrode her, holding a hand up, and watching her large, curious eyes dart, her montrals bob worriedly, and he tried to offer her a smile, but he couldn’t quite get it out. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Ahsoka nodded, montrals shaking with the movement, and she gazed at him, watching as he got to his feet, then following the motion and clambering up as well. “Okay, Master. What is it?” 

_ Just tell her, just say it--  _ “I’m leaving.” 

Confusion clearly spread across Ahsoka’s features at Anakin’s vague phrasing and he swore at himself internally. “Leaving? Like, an upcoming mission? Master--”

“No, what I mean to say is…” Anakin turned his back to her and he found that it was easier to talk when staring at the wall, “Ahsoka, I’m leaving for good.” 

“I-I don’t understand… where are you--where are  _ we  _ going?” 

Anakin’s heart hurt now and he curled his prosthetic hand into a fist at his side. “I don’t know where I’m going yet. But  _ we  _ aren’t going anywhere, Snips. I can’t be your Master anymore.” the words felt a little hollow and Anakin hung his head. For the first time in this whole process, he felt a little shame creep in, and he was glad that Obi-Wan wasn’t around to feel it. 

“ _ What?  _ But Master…  _ Master _ , I’m not ready to take the Trials!” Ahsoka protested, voice rising in octaves as she got more and more distressed, slowly approaching Anakin from behind.

“No, you are not,” Anakin agreed, turning rather suddenly to look at her, eyes steeled over so that she wouldn’t be able to see the pain there. It was his turn to be the strong one. “You’ll have to get a new Master. If there’s anyone you’d like, I can make a recommendation to the Council--”

“I don’t  _ want  _ a new Master! I want _ you _ !” Ahsoka burst out, and her bottom lip quivered a bit. Anakin was horrified that she might cry and his features quickly broke down, allowing her to see the guilt and sadness that turned down the corners of his mouth.

“Snips, please know that this has  _ nothing  _ to do with you, if there was any way that I could stay… if there was any way that I could keep being your Master, please trust that I would.” Anakin said, voice a little softer than it had been before, and slowly he reached out and gently touched Ahsoka’s shoulder.

She allowed the touch for a moment, then recoiled. “I don’t  _ understand _ \--” 

“I’m leaving the Order,” Anakin said abruptly, and Ahsoka stared at him, flabbergasted. He sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. He wasn’t sure why he had thought that he could explain his departure to her without explaining the circumstances. “I… I’m leaving the Order, I’m not going to be a Jedi anymore.” Ahsoka’s eyes were wide, and Anakin sighed again. “Can you keep a secret, Snips? I mean a  _ secret _ . You can’t tell  _ anyone _ , not the Council, not _ Lux _ , not on pain of death, not anyone.”

“I know what a secret is,” Ahsoka retorted, crossing her arms over her chest and levelling her master with a look of annoyance. “And yes, I can keep one.” 

Anakin sighed yet again, and then took a deep inhale. “Obi-Wan… Master Kenobi--is pregnant. Obi-Wan is pregnant.” He expected the words to feel strange in his mouth, as he so rarely spoke them aloud, but they felt as natural as anything else he might’ve said, and bubbled a warmth up within him, despite the unfortunate circumstances in which he was revealing the information. He started to continue, but instead lapsed into silence and let Ahsoka process what he’d just said. 

“W-What??” It was a lot of information and Ahsoka faltered slightly, blinking at Anakin slowly. “M-Master Kenobi is... _ with child? _ But who--what--”

“Me. It’s mine.” Anakin cringed at how awkward he sounded, but at this point all he could do was barrell on and hope for the best. “Obi-Wan and  _ I  _ are expecting. We’re both leaving the Order, we have to. We can’t start a family, under the Jedi Code. We’re just waiting until he gets closer to his delivery date, and then… Well, then we’re telling the Council and resigning our positions. That’s why I can’t be your Master anymore, Snips, you must believe me, if there was any way--”

“B-but… Y-You and Master Kenobi are  _ together? _ ” Ahsoka was blushing a deep plum colour, and Anakin couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

“ _ That’s  _ what you got out of that, Snips?” Anakin smirked a little then, and nudged her with his Force signature, “Your mind  _ must  _ be in the gutter…”

Ahsoka blushed even more and spluttered, which made Anakin laugh again. He hadn’t expected to laugh at all during this conversation, so it was a pleasant surprise. “H-how… I never… I thought if anyone, maybe Senator Amidala…”

Anakin shook his head. “No, Padme and I are just friends. Obi-Wan and I have been...involved, for years now. But the last few months, after the pregnancy, that’s when we’ve really  _ cemented _ our relationship.” 

“ _ What?  _ But didn’t you have to...you know...to get pregnant in the first place?” 

“What--oh kriffing  _ hell  _ Snips, I didn’t mean sex--your mind really is in the gutter. Okay, here, Obi-Wan and I have been intimate for years now. But now that he’s pregnant, we’re starting a family, we’re going to settle down, and be together forever. Like, real significant others.” It made Anakin’s ears pink a little, and he turned his head, embarrassed by how pleased he was at the idea. Being official, committed, with the one person he loved more than anything… It sounded better than following the Jedi path ever could. 

Ahsoka seemed at a loss for what to say, so she paced around a little bit, then sunk back against the railing. Anakin sheepishly rubbed at the back of his neck and trailed after her, once he’d given her a couple minutes of alone time to process the information. He sat down next to her atop the railing and allowed them to sit in silence for a while, before he finally spoke. He was still so bad at things like this, at interpersonal things, and he was wishing to have his master’s tact and social decorum right about then. 

“Ahsoka, it’s okay if you’re angry with me. I--”

“I’m not angry with you,” Ahsoka said so quickly that Anakin didn’t know how to take it, and he gazed at her in somewhat skeptical confusion.

Ahsoka shook her head quickly and gazed at Anakin. “I’m truly not angry with you, Master. I’ll just miss you, that’s all.” That light plum blush was back on her face, and it made Anakin smile a little. 

“Awww… Snips… I’ll miss you, too,” Anakin replied honestly, and the pain in his heart turned to a more therapeutic ache. It still wasn’t easy, leaving her behind, but he was comforted by the knowledge that at least they wouldn’t part on bad terms.  

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, Anakin’s feet swinging absent-mindedly and Ahsoka’s montrals swaying in the same nervous movement. 

“Master… Can I ask you a question?” 

“Of course,” Anakin replied, “Though judging by  _ your  _ dirty mind, you’re going to ask me if Master Obi-Wan usually  _ gives  _ or--”

“ _ Master!” _

Ahsoka squeaked and Anakin laughed, then held up his hands in defence. “Okay, okay. I’ll be serious. Yes, you can ask me a question.”

“Are you…  _ happy? _ ” Ahsoka asked, a little timidly, as she peered at her master.

Anakin bit his lip. “Honestly?”

Ahsoka nodded, eyes a little wide. 

“Yes,” Anakin replied, releasing his breath and his lip at the same time. “I mean-- _ hell,  _ I’m nervous as all  _ hell _ , I don’t know what I’m doing, the Jedi Trials seem like a  _ breeze  _ compared to this, I’m worried about Obi-Wan, I’m worried about myself-- _ me, a father? _ \--but… yes. Obi-Wan Kenobi is my infinitely better half. He’s given me a family, which is something I never thought I’d have. The idea of spending my life at his side, and getting to give my children the life I never had--freedom, safety, peace… Yeah, I’m happy.” 

Ahsoka listened attentively, but didn’t speak as soon as Anakin lapsed into silence, and they sat there quietly once more. It was another minute before she said, “You know, I meant what I said before.”

“Hmm?” Anakin turned to look at her, slightly confused.

“All those months ago, when you asked me if I was a carrier, and I said no. I said that I thought being a carrier, having a family, all of that… I said that it was just as honourable as following the Jedi path. And I meant it. I think that what you and Master Kenobi are doing… I think it’s brave.” Ahsoka’s montrals continued to twitch in embarrassed nerves, she almost never spoke so bluntly. “And for what it’s worth, Master…. I think you’ll be a great father. It’s been an honour to be your padawan.”

Without any preamble, Anakin slid off the railing and got to his feet, then pulled Ahsoka in for a tight hug. 

Ahsoka’s eyes got a little wide, body tensing. Anakin held on though, letting his chin rest on top of her head, and slowly, Ahsoka relaxed, and her own arms came to twine around Anakin’s waist, head uncertainly resting against his chest. 

They hugged for long enough that Ahsoka understood it was more meaningful than any words would be, then Anakin finally spoke. 

“You know, they say that having a padawan is as close to having children as a Jedi ever gets. Now that I’ve experienced one and am about to experience the other, I’ve got to say--if having children is having half as rewarding as having you as a padawan was, I’ll be the luckiest person in the galaxy.”

Now it was Ahsoka’s turn to hold onto Anakin. 

.

.

“Last chance to back out.”

“Ha, ha. That’s really not funny, Obi-Wan.”

“Who says I’m joking? 

“ _ Obi-Wan _ ,”

“Okay, you’re right, no more chances to back out. See, there goes your last chance, wafting away down the corridor. It looks like you’re stuck with me now, Anakin.” 

They had been standing shoulder to shoulder, and Anakin turned grabbing Obi-Wan by the shoulders and turning him around to face him. Standing this close, Obi-Wan’s bump almost grazed his stomach. The med-droids said that it was any day now. Master Yoda had sensed that, and had given them the last two weeks off of missions, aside from one or two diplomatic meetings, mostly keeping Anakin over in the Senate Building for work purposes. The Senators still trusted him, a familiar face, and while Padme was rebuilding the Senate, it was good to have a Jed presence around, to start a new era of trust and transparency. They had to unite over their mutual fear of another Sith infiltration.

However, after another week,  _ two tops,  _ then they would have to induce labour, Anakin wouldn’t be in the Senate Building anymore, it would be another Jedi’s turn to step up and win the trust of Padme Amidala, and the other senators. 

It was finally time, he and Obi-Wan were finally telling the Senate. After nearly nine months of secrecy, Anakin couldn’t deny that he felt a little giddy at the prospect of finally coming clean. However, he knew that it was a somber day for his other half, so he didn’t express any of the giddiness he felt on the inside, except for maybe a few errant smiles, and instead donned the role of supportive padawan, and even more supportive significant other. 

“Good,” Anakin said, looking straight into Obi-Wan’s eyes, his own a placid and sweet hazel. “I’m stuck with you, and you’re stuck with me. It’s best that way, I thought we agreed, for survival purposes…” 

Obi-Wan gave a dry, but warm, smile, and leaned in to press a soft, but chaste kiss against Anakin’s mouth. “For survival purposes, of course.” Another soft kiss. “Now, are you ready for our last Council meeting, my young padawan?”

_ Are you ready for our first Council meeting, my young padawan?  _ Anakin could practically hear Obi-Wan’s younger, more impatient voice asking him such a question, nearly fourteen years ago. He smiled, but he would be lying if he said that the sensation of crying wasn’t burning at the back of his nose and throat. So he said exactly what he’d said all those many years ago-- “Yes, Master.” 

He followed Obi-Wan into the Council meeting room, robes flowing out around their ankles and overlapping as they made their way to their seats.

They were the last ones there, so there was no  _ waiting _ , which Anakin thanked the Force for--he  _ hated  _ waiting, possibly more than anything else. 

“Gathered here today we are, to hear a report from Master Kenobi,” Master Yoda said, and already Obi-Wan felt all eyes in the room turn to him. He didn’t love it.

He cleared his throat and nodded his respects to Master Yoda--he just wished the master didn’t look so damn  _ knowing _ \--then got up and moved to stand in the center of the room. “It is my regret to tell you that I have been hiding something from all of you, for a while now. I know that secrets are frowned upon by the Jedi Code and I extend my deepest apologies for ever keeping this. It just never seemed the right time. However, now it is getting inevitable that I come clean, and with Separatist forces being pushed back more and more each day, the Senate being rebuilt, and the death of Darth Sidious, I think that now is the time I have been waiting for. Our forces are stronger now than ever, with Master Yoda training a next generation of strong Jedi Knights, and I stand before my Council today to tell you that I, too, will be helping to build this generation.” Obi-Wan could have heard a pin drop, and he coughed again, moving one hand up to push his robe away from his sizeable bump. Every Jedi in the room, sans Yoda and Anakin, seemed to have a simultaneous moment of clarity, and Obi-Wan could practically feel their Force signatures bursting with surprise and he fought not to clench his fists as he continued. “I am with child. In a week’s time, I will be honouring the legacy of our people by bringing two new Force-sensitive beings into the galaxy.” 

Obi-Wan could feel prickling emotions from the circle around him, and he felt too hot--o _ h, he couldn’t do this _ \--until he locked eyes with Anakin and everything else seemed to melt away. Anakin gave him the barest hint of a smile, and Obi-Wan smiled back. “S-Some of you may be angry, that I would stay on the Council in my condition. I assure you, I cleared my condition with Master Yoda, and this is what we worked out. I am here today, to resign my position on the Council, and to leave the Order. I request only to be allowed sanctuary at the Temple until I have delivered, then I will relocate and begin my new destiny.”

Before anyone could speak, Anakin was rising to his feet, and if Jedi were the type to gaps, then there would have been audible gasps around the room. He held his head high and he strode to the center of the room until he was next to Obi-Wan, and he had never felt as confident in Council as he did right then. “And I, Anakin Skywalker, am standing at his side to announce, and request, the same. I am resigning my appointed position to the Council, and am leaving the Order.  I release my padawan learner, Ahsoka Tano, from my training. She is not yet ready to take the Trials, so I request that she expediently receive a new Jedi Master. She has already earned so many of her beads, and she has been an excellent padawan--she will be a better Jedi than I have ever been. For those of you who have never really trusted me, you can trust me about this.” Anakin reached out and took Obi-Wan’s hand, lacing their fingers together. He could feel the discomfort and pain radiating from his other half, he was barely bothering to shield at all, and Anakin wrapped those emotions with his own love and devotion. “Once Obi-Wan delivers, I will join him in relocation, and will also honour our people by raising two Force-sensitive children. I will teach them the ways and the power of the Force, and I will uphold the values that the Jedi Code has instilled in me, and urge my family to do the same. I will love, guide, and protect them, and I will never forsake them. It is this destiny that lies before me, and I stand before you today so that you might witness me take my first steps, with my infinitely better half.” Anakin looked over at Obi-Wan, and surprisingly Obi-Wan looked back. His eyes were glazed over with unshed tears, and Anakin had never wanted to kiss him more in his entire life. 

No one seemed to know what to say, and both Anakin and Obi-Wan vaguely wondered if this had ever happened before, in the whole of Jedi history. With how silent everyone was, even Master Yoda and Master Windu, maybe not. 

It seemed like an eternity, but finally Master Yarael, the Quermia on the Council, spoke, voice easy and kind, despite the vaguely awkward atmosphere of the room. “Passing on the Force is indeed a great honour, to the both of you, and to our people. May the Force be with you, as you embark on this new, conjoined path of your life.” 

“And also with you,” both Obi-Wan and Anakin murmured--Anakin was relieved at the kind words, Obi-Wan was melancholy. 

Master Yarael’s well-wish set off a chain reaction, and soon all members of the Council were giving their own version of it. It was bittersweet, being wished well for leaving the Order, and Anakin found himself relatively unaffected, but Obi-Wan’s stoicism was seeping into him, and he just smiled tightly and thanked everyone for every well wish they got. 

“So, The Chosen One, huh?” Master Windu disrupted the flow of positive comments, squinting slightly at Anakin. “The Chosen One is resigning The Order? What about the balance to the Force?” 

“The Force will have to find balance without Obi-Wan and I,” Anakin answered, and he squeezed Obi-Wan’s hand then, “Because we have been chosen for a different fate.” 

Master Windu nodded, and it was the most respect Anakin had ever felt emanating from him. “May the Force be with you, Kenobi, Skywalker.”

“And also with you.” 

Master Yoda glanced around the room, to see that everyone had said their piece about what an honor child-rearing truly was, then spoke. “Granted your requests are, Obi-Wan, Anakin,” he said, “Stay until after your delivery you may, dismissed from the High Council and released from the Order you both are. Follow the Jedi Code anymore you must not, but may the Force be with you, in all things.” 

“And also with you, Master Yoda,” Obi-Wan said, voice strong but wavering. Anakin simply nodded, echoing Obi-Wan. 

The hardest part was when Council dismissed, but nobody moved, eyes still on Obi-Wan and Anakin. It was then that Obi-Wan realized that they, no longer members of the Council, were expected to leave first. To walk in a member of the High Council, a Jedi Master, and to walk out  _ nothing _ , well, it was anticlimactic to say the least, and it took every last shred of dignity of that Obi-Wan had to walk out with his head held high. 

Anakin trailed after him quickly, and once they made it out of the room, he watched Obi-Wan visibly slump, shoulders slouching and head drooping. Nearly thirty years, ended in the blink of an eye. With a simple wave of a hand and sentence, most of Obi-Wan’s identity had been diminished. They hadn’t even had to give their lightsabers back--considering many Jedi who did start families kept them as heirlooms, in case their children grew up to be Jedi. 

Anakin’s arms were around Obi-Wan in an instant, and he hugged him as tightly as he could without pressing into his baby bump too hard. “It’s over,” He murmured, kissing Obi-Wan’s forehead, “it’s  _ over. _ ”

“It’s over,” Obi-Wan echoed, and he didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh until he cried or cry until he laughed, so he just did both, or maybe neither, maybe he was just laughing _ and  _ crying. 

Anakin held him. 

.

.


	5. Birth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it! I never intended for this fic to be drawn out over so many months, and while I am a little sad to be finished with it for good, I'm so happy that it's finally reached completion! I really, really appreciate everyone who's stuck with me from the beginning, it's been a nice encouragement, but I also appreciate everyone who's just started to read just as much. Mostly, I just hope that everyone has enjoyed this fic! I was watching Episode III in the spring and realized that pregnant Obi-Wan was something I'd needed my whole life and only just realized, so I hope that I have stirred that realization in others as well. Happy reading!

The lights were so bright, words jumbling hopelessly together, rhythmic but quick beeping, a very steady pressure on his hand, Obi-Wan’s cries--Anakin had to blink hard, let his eyes fall shut for longer than a blink too, tried not to see the nightmarish scene painted on the back of his eyelids, the chrome, the blood, the lifeless body. He failed. 

A hard squeeze on his hand--so hard that it hurt--brought him back into his body. He felt like he had been floating before, and the not-so-gentle squeeze was the anchor wrapped around his ankle that sent him plummeting back to the ground. His eyelids slid back open, and he blinked for a second against the bright lights, then appraised the scene in front of him.

It wasn’t deafening, like it seemed in his mind, there was no frantic beeping, the med-droids spoke calmly, with reminders such as  _ push _ ,  _ breathe _ , and Obi-Wan wasn’t  _ crying out _ , more like whimpering and biting his lip to suppress the worst of it. He was propped up in a med-bay bed-- _ no cold, hard table, red on chrome, so much red-- _ legs spread and feet resting in stirrups. Obi-Wan had complained about how undignified it felt, and Anakin had promised that he wouldn’t tell anyone in the Order about them-- _ honestly, he just gave birth standing up, didn’t make a single noise or anything _ . Obi-Wan had rolled his eyes and smacked him lovingly on the arm then, and Anakin had kissed his temple. 

Obi-Wan was whimpering, with the occasional pained whine or huff, and had been since his contractions had started an hour prior. Thankfully, labour had not been a particularly long process, and Anakin heard one of the med-droids say that one of the babies was crowning. That was a good sign--no last minute C-sections and Anakin might just count this as an easier pregnancy than either of them ever could have hoped for. 

“You’re doing so well, baby, so good,” Anakin praised gently, trying to squeeze Obi-Wan’s hand back, though his fingers were almost completely numb due to the abuse they’d suffered from Obi-Wan’s grip and it came out as more of a gentle twitch. Anakin thought that Obi-Wan looked beautiful like this, no matter how undignified he felt. He had a light sheen of sweat on his face from the exertion of pushing, and the pain, and Anakin wanted to lick the beads of sweat from his forehead. His teeth were digging into his plush bottom lip as he strained, and one hand was gripping the bed rail while the other was tightly gripping Anakin’s.

Anakin leaned into Obi-Wan’s space and pressed his nose against his temple, breathing in his natural musk and the scent of sweat, and feeling his Force signature, pulsating with the kind of life and energy that Anakin had never felt before. Creating new life was the ultimate act of Force, and Obi-Wan’s Force signature was absolutely thrumming, Anakin could feel it all around them, charged and almost electric to the touch. It was warm, and so  _ alive _ , and Anakin felt tears burning at the back of his eyes--tears of relief, gratitude,  _ everything  _ and he felt a couple leak from the corners of his eyes as he whispered sweet encouragements against the side of Obi-Wan’s face. 

He stayed there, coddled in Obi-Wan’s vibrant Force signature and getting his hand crushed, until Obi-Wan released a piercing cry, then devolved into breathlessness. For a moment, the med-bay room was totally silent, aside from their own breathing and the steady beeping of Obi-Wan’s vitals, then the silence was shattered into a million pieces by the wailing cry of an infant. Anakin’s head snapped up, heart skipping a beat and eyes widening in disbelief. Despite the nine months he’d had to accustom himself to the idea of becoming a father, he’d never  _ truly  _ been able to imagine it. He’d never truly been able to imagine a small life form,  _ an infant _ , a life that had been created solely by him and Obi-Wan’s. Yet, here such a life was, a small, crying infant, still covered in blood and fluids, cradled methodically in a med-droids arms. The med-droid spoke soft, gentle words to the crying infant, which eventually seemed to be somewhat soothed, only hiccuping the occasional cry and lashing out tiny hands to touch the robotic features. The other med-droids were still between Obi-Wan’s legs, and Obi-Wan gave a half-muted whimper, and moments later another fluid-slicked infant was in the arms of a med-droid. This one was crying as well, but not as shrilly or as raucously as the first one. It was also soothed much easier by a little cooing and comforting from the med-droid. Anakin blinked at the sight of the two half-crying infants that the med-droids were swaddling , and felt something hot on his cheeks, and realized that he was crying now. 

Obi-Wan finally released his hand and it fell limply to his side, tingling with returning sensation, and Anakin wasn’t even thinking enough to wonder why he didn’t give Obi-Wan his prosthetic hand to squeeze, and instead just focused on wrapping his arms tightly around the other, nose pressing against his cheekbone. Obi-Wan’s face was sticky with sweat but Anakin didn’t mind, smearing his tears from his own cheeks to Obi-Wan’s flushed ones. “We did it, Obi-Wan, we did it,” he half-sobbed, pressing kisses to Obi-Wan’s cheekbones, then to the rest of his face. 

Obi-Wan weakly smiled and reached up to touch Anakin’s face gently, bringing him in for an open-mouthed kiss that wasn’t necessarily appropriate in front of an audience, but emotions were running high and the med-droids were too preoccupied with getting Obi-Wan and the twins cleaned up to pay them any mind anyway. “Yeah, we did,” Obi-Wan replied breathlessly when their kiss broke, and smiled up at Anakin, a sparkling in his eyes that he hadn’t expected to have there. Two med-droids approached them and offered the twins out patiently, understanding when Obi-Wan and Anakin both reflexively balked out of nerves. 

“A healthy baby boy,” The droid holding the first born baby said, holding out a small infant with big, bright blue eyes to Anakin. Tentatively, Anakin reached out and allowed the med-droid to place the infant in his arms, and guide him on how to position his arms to best cradle him. A couple of tears dropped from Anakin’s eyes and hit the baby’s face, which only prompted more crying on the baby’s end. Anakin’s face flushed, and he stuttered out an apology to the infant, and heard Obi-Wan chuckle breathlessly next to him. 

“And his equally healthy twin sister,” The droid holding the second born baby followed up, holding out the other swaddled infant to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan took the baby less tentatively than Anakin had, maybe it was all the parental hormones rampaging through his body, or maybe he had just held more babies than Anakin had over the years, but he carefully cradled her in his arms and pulled her to his chest comfortingly. She made a soft cooing noise and reached a hand up toward Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan made a soft noise in return, gazing down at his still somewhat sticky daughter. 

“Leia,” Anakin said rather suddenly, and Obi-Wan glanced up at him with a curious tilt of his head. “Leia, why don’t we name her Leia?”

Obi-Wan looked back down at their daughter and nodded slowly. “Leia. Leia Sky--”

“Kenobi. Leia Kenobi.” Anakin smiled and leaned against the side of the hospital bed, rocking the infant in his arms as smoothly and gently as he could, which prompted a few gentle coos. “I think you’ve earned the legacy, Obi-Wan.” 

_ Thank you.  _

Obi-Wan didn’t say it, and he didn’t have to. Instead, he gazed at the wide-eyed infant in Anakin’s arms and offered, “Luke.”

Anakin carefully moved one hand up and brushed his thumb across their son’s sticky forehead, his gaze enrapt. “Luke and Leia Kenobi. Luke and Leia.” Anakin tipped his head down and kissed Luke on the forehead, smiling tearfully when the infant cooed in return and emitted a happy, simple Force signature. 

Luke and Leia’s Force signatures radiated contentment, and they weren’t even too fussy when the med-droids took them back to get them cleaned up, leaving Obi-Wan and Anakin with a few minutes to themselves.

Obi-Wan sighed and slumped back against the bed, exhausted physically and emotionally. That evening when he and Anakin had been climbing into bed for the night, he had felt the trickling wetness down his legs, soaking his pyjama bottoms like an omen-- _ Anakin, my water’s broken _ ,  _ Ana-kin, we have to go now--Anakin, it’s happening.  _

Despite being somewhat frantic and asking him no less than thirty-five times if he was  _ sure  _ he could walk all the way to med-bay, Obi-Wan had to admit that he was proud with his former padawan’s maturity. He’d had everything prepared, a change of clothes for both of them, and a few cloths and blankets for swaddling purposes, even a couple containers of warm water, and he had ushered Obi-Wan out the door in a prompt manner, providing him with a stream of comforts and encouragements. It all seemed commonplace, but Obi-Wan felt confident that nine short months ago,  _ he  _ would have had to be the one comforting  _ Anakin,  _ even as he went into labour. As he’d grown with Anakin, sometimes he didn’t notice how much his former-padawan really had grown up. Once upon a time he may have had doubts about what kind of father Anakin would be--now he had no such doubts, except for those that he had about himself. 

They’d had no real missions of any sort in the last couple of weeks--he’d basically stayed exclusively in the Temple, venturing to meetings and nothing more, while Anakin had seemed to live at the Senate Building helping Senator Amidala--considering the fact that Obi-Wan could pop at any moment. He had tried to keep himself in the right mindset--he was fulfilling an important duty to their people, he was not walking this path alone, he had _ Anakin,  _ he was getting the opportunity to spread the Force, to teach his children the ways of the Force, and raise two potential new Jedis. It all still left such a pit in his stomach. 

However, he couldn’t feel that pit quite as prominently while lying in the hospital bed, Anakin’s arms tightly wrapping around him as he scooted over and made room for his other half on the bed. 

“You okay?” Anakin murmured against the side of Obi-Wan’s face, his hand reaching up to rest very, very gently against his stomach. It was much flatter now, and it was a little strange, after having the bump for so long, for Obi-Wan’s figure to feel close to being back to what it had been before. 

Obi-Wan nodded, reassuringly reaching up to stroke Anakin’s face. Even after Darth Sidious had died and the “visions” had died with him, Obi-Wan knew that Anakin still worried.  _ What if, what if, what if  _ playing through his mind on loop,  _ what if it was all true, what if they got into the delivery room and there was no-thing he could do-- _ Obi-Wan had tried to soothe Anakin’s worries as best as he could, kissing his forehead and reminding him that they hadn’t been visions, just lies concocted and projected by Darth Sidious in order to manipulate Anakin into doing his bidding. Anakin would always nod, but he would clench his fist and Obi-Wan knew that doubt still plagued the back of his mind.

He had been able to feel the anxiety radiating from Anakin while he had been in labour, and he tried so hard to reach out to him, despite the pain, despite the distraction and overstimulation, he had tried to reach out and wrap his Force signature around Anakin.  _ Look at me. I exist I exist I exist.  _

Even now, he kept his Force lightly blanketed atop of Anakin, to let him know that he was alive, and he wasn’t going anywhere. “I’m fine. A little sore, a little embarrassed about how I’m going to look naked for the next few months…” 

Anakin kissed him and chided him nonverbally. “Don’t say that, Obi-Wan. You’re beautiful, you know that. Naked and otherwise.” 

Obi-Wan was placated by Anakin’s sweetness, and he leaned into his other half as best as he could. “The med-droids said no sex for four to six weeks, you know,” he said in almost a groan, “And after that, we can resume normal sexual activity, but I’ll need to take regular suppressants, unless we want Luke and Leia to have siblings…” 

“For the sake of both of our hair, we should probably stick with just the two…” Anakin teased, and let his fingers card through Obi-Wan’s sweat dampened hair. “And no penetrative sex for four to six weeks… they didn’t say anything about  _ oral _ , did they? 

Obi-Wan snorted. “If we have the  _ time _ . I wouldn’t say that two newborns are particularly conducive to amorous activity...”

Anakin smirked. “We could always just do it in front of them…”

“ _ Anakin! _ ”

“What? I mean, they won’t know what we’re doing, and it’s not like they’ll  _ remember _ , so no emotional or mental trauma…”

“ _ Anakin. _ ”

Anakin didn’t have any more time to tease a very tired, albeit content, Obi-Wan, because the med-droids came bustling back in then, with the twins all cleaned up, dressed in fresh, soft clothes, and swaddled tightly. They handed them off to Obi-Wan and Anakin, this time Luke going to Obi-Wan and Leia going to Anakin, and then began to cite off a few infant care do’s and don’ts, since Obi-Wan and Anakin were first time parents.

Obi-Wan and Anakin half-way listened--okay, Obi-Wan listened, while Anakin marvelled over the twins tiny features and touched them in wonderment--as they took turns cooing over the twins respectively, cuddling close to one another. The four of them all together, united, a  _ real family _ .

If the blossoming warmth in his heart was all hormones, then Obi-Wan had to say, it truly was nature over nurture.

However, he didn’t think that it was. He thought it had more to do with the way that the twins seemed to so easily trust them, to fall asleep in their arms like they were meant to be there. The way that Luke’s eyes seemed to have the same sparks that Anakin’s did, and the way that Leia’s Force signature felt a little like Anakin’s always had, strong-willed and devoted, already. It was everything about the two small bundles that he and his other half held that he thought made the warmth blossom in his chest, and he smiled tiredly down at them.

“They’re beautiful,” Anakin murmured, tracing Luke’s nose gently with his pointer finger as the baby slept soundly, completely unaware of the touch. 

“As are you, so really, is it any surprise?” Obi-Wan said sweetly, mimicking Anakin’s motion and trailing his finger down Luke’s nose instead. Luke opened those bright blues eyes and Obi-Wan winced for a moment, expecting tears, but they never came. Instead, Luke gave something close to a smile and just gazed up curiously, eyes placid and bright. 

“Mm… Well, I’m pretty sure I read that children get their good physical traits from the carrier…” Anakin teased affectionately, using his free hand to gently stroke the back of Obi-Wan’s knuckles. 

“Mhhm…” Obi-Wan teased back doubtfully, then finally relented with a soft smile, “Maybe they get them from both of us… After all, we are a team.”

Anakin smiled in response and leaned even further into Obi-Wan’s space. “Yeah, we are. We’re  _ the team _ .” 

And now they were a family, too. 

.

.

“Master-- _ oof _ , Master--I’m sorry I’m late!”

Anakin laughed softly as he watched Ahsoka trip over her own feet as she ran across the tarmac, montrals flapping wildly with the motion. He was standing by the ship, Obi-Wan was standing about five feet to his left, making small talk with Padme, and the twins were already in their carrier, strapped in, in the ship, within eyesight of both Obi-Wan and Anakin through the open ship door. 

Today was the day, they were leaving Coruscant, for good this time. They were going to relocate and start a home, a real new life, and while Anakin was excited to start anew, he knew that today was bittersweet. Tomorrow they would start their new life, today they had to leave their old one. 

It had been a week and a half since Luke and Leia were born. They had been permitted to stay in the temple while Obi-Wan did the brunt of his healing. Most of his postpartum bleeding had stopped and he was down to occasional spotting--something Anakin was still  _ very  _ relieved by, as the bleeding still made him nervous--and although he wouldn’t be completely healed for another four to six weeks at least, and his uterus may not be back to its normal size for up to eight weeks, the worst of his pain had mostly passed. 

So now it was time for them to leave. They had been given a ship, courtesy of the Jedi Council, which Anakin had found to be a surprisingly nice gesture. Even nicer yet, Master Yoda had not only come to see them off, but he had brought a basket full of things for the twins. It had stunned even Obi-Wan. Master Windu came also to see them off, and Anakin cynically wondered if he was just happy that Anakin was leaving the Order, considering the fact that he’d never trusted him, rather than  _ actually _ being happy for them. Either way, it had been nice that a few Jedi had come to see them off, and Anakin appreciated it for Obi-Wan’s sake, if not for his own. 

As he watched Ahsoka sprint across the pavement, that’s when the bittersweetness really hit him. He shook his head when she stopped in front of him, a slight smile on his lips. “I’m not your master anymore, Snips, you don’t have to call me that. Anakin is fine.” 

Ahsoka wrinkled her nose at the prospect of that and her montrals twitched. “Okay…  _ Anakin _ .” she scrunched her nose even more this time, and Anakin had to admit, it was weird for him, too. He’d gotten a little too used to master. “I’m sorry that I’m late, a meeting with… my  _ new  _ master ran over.” 

Anakin tried to ignore the jealousy that spiked through his Force signature, and he hoped that he was shielding well enough to keep it from Ahsoka. “New master, huh? Do you like them?”

Ahsoka shrugged, but the way that she kicked at the tarmac told Anakin everything he needed to know. “He’s a Quermian. So it could get interesting, I suppose, I might learn some new pranks… I don’t know though, I don’t know if I’ll make it as his padawan…”

Anakin smirked, and didn’t let her see the emotion that burned at his eyes. “Hey Snips, if you could make it as my padawan, then I think you can make it as just about anyone’s.” 

Ahsoka smiled. “Thanks...Anakin. Can I see the twins again?” She had come by his and Obi-Wan’s private quarters earlier that week to see the newborns. She had even held Luke for a moment or two, but then he squirmed and made a quiet noise and she had let out a soft yelp and gotten spooked, immediately holding him back out for Obi-Wan to take. Anakin had laughed at her.  _ What, you can take on a whole Separatist army, but can’t face one tiny little newborn?  _ She had blushed and muttered out something about how beautiful the twins were to Obi-Wan, who had smiled softly and thanked her. 

“Of course,” Anakin responded, guiding her up the ramp and onto the ship. Luke and Leia were swaddled in matching pale pink blankets. Luke was asleep but Leia was awake, blinking curiously at her surroundings as she laid back in the carrier with her brother. They were packed in tightly, so that they weren’t jostled around too much during take off, but it didn’t seem to bother either of them. Leia would occasionally try to squirm around, but Luke seemed used to her movements--probably from all that time spent in the womb, she must have been the restless one there too--and wasn’t roused. 

“ _ Oh, _ ” Ahsoka said softly, gazing down at the small infants, a sort of dreamy and curious look on her face, “Anakin, they really are...” Ahsoka’s montrals swayed gently as she held her hand out toward the twins and let her eyes shut for a moment. “I can feel yours, and Master--uhh, yours and Obi-Wan’s Force signatures in them, it’s really, well, it’s beautiful. I’ve never gotten to feel anything like this before.” 

Anakin smiled and replied honestly, “Neither have I.” then reached out to gently wave his hand over Luke and Leia, feeling their Force signatures and sending back a few loving, calm tendrils of his own.

“Are you excited? To be getting away from all this? No more separatists, no more Sith… You get to have a real life, with a real family…” Ahsoka tried not to focus on the sadness she felt within at the idea. 

“I’m excited,” Anakin said, dropping his hand away and turning to face Ahsoka once more. “I’m also… scared. No more separatists, no more Sith--but they’ll still be out there. I’ll know of all the threats in the galaxy, and I’ll doubt my own abilities to do anything about them. As a Jedi, at least I  _ knew _ that I was making a difference, that I was saving people, that I could keep Obi-Wan safe. Now, well, now the fate of the galaxy won’t be in my hands anymore.” 

Ahsoka nodded, then reached out, more boldly than usual, and clamped her petite hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “Well I can promise you, there’s at least one Jedi who will protect you, always.” 

With that, Anakin closed the distance between them and hugged her tightly, picking her up off her feet and giving her a firm squeeze despite her squeaks and complaints.

“Anakin--Ana--kin!!”

He grinned and set her back on her feet after letting her just thrash around for a few moments, and braced his hands on her shoulders. “Now get out of here, Snips. Wouldn’t want to piss off your new Master, now would you? I’ve heard that Quermians have  _ wicked  _ telekinesis…” 

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “It’s not telekinesis, just advanced Jedi mind tricks…”

“It’s not telekinesis that you  _ know of _ …”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes again. “Safe travels?”

“Never.”

“Maybe I can come visit you, once you and Obi-Wan get settled in?” Ahsoka asked hopefully, gazing up at her former-master and almost immediately frowning when she saw his mouth settle into a grim line.  _ No attachments _ .

Anakin’s heart was aching, but he nudged her playfully with his Force signature anyway. “If you have time to visit us, then you’re clearly slacking. Two open seats on the Council, the Trials coming up, a new Separatist revolution undoubtedly--you’ve got your work cut out for you, Snips.” Anakin didn’t miss the way that her shoulders sunk in disappointment, and he grabbed her and pulled her close, kissing her on top of the head, lips against the smooth, taut skin of one of her montrals. “Hey, go give them hell for me, Snips.” 

Ahsoka nodded when she pulled back, and they both respectfully ignored the tears in her eyes. Anakin watched as she started the descent down the ship ramp and he couldn’t help but yell after her, “Hey Snips! May the Force be with you.” 

She turned and looked back up at Anakin, offering him one last smile. “May the Force be with you,  _ Anakin _ .” Then she was off and the taste in the back of Anakin’s mouth had never been so bittersweet before. 

He wasn’t quite done, and he exited the ship, going up to Padme and sweeping her off her feet and into a hug with no preamble, completely interrupting the conversation that she and Obi-Wan were having mid-sentence. 

“ _ Ani--! _ ” 

“I’ll miss you, Padme,” Anakin admitted bluntly when he lowered her back down to her feet. He could feel Obi-Wan’s Force signature from behind him, and he was relieved when he felt it remain steady. He knew once upon a time Obi-Wan had harboured a vague jealousy toward Padme, when he hadn’t known Anakin’s intentions with her. But they were nothing more than platonic, and Obi-Wan knew that by now. Padme was his  _ best _ friend, the best friend that Anakin had ever had, outside of Obi-Wan who was his best friend, but was also so much more.  

Padme smiled and touched Anakin’s shoulder when he let her down, then dropped her hand back to her side. “I’ll certainly notice your absence around the Senate Building,” she teased.  _ You’re my best friend too. _ “Who else will get underfoot in nearly all Senate proceedings and will hassle me with Official, Important Jedi Business? Who else will drag me away from the call of democracy to go on impromptu rescue missions?” 

“My replacement,” Anakin quipped, “If they’re any good.” 

“Oh, Ani,” Padme replied, voice struck rather suddenly with a wave of sentimentality, “Nobody could ever replace you.” 

She hugged him again, her head pressing against his chest to hide her face, and he circled his arms around her comfortingly. 

They stayed like that for a minute or so, Obi-Wan waiting patiently for them to finish hugging, until Padme broke the hug. Her pale face make-up betrayed a few tear tracks on her cheeks, but she still held her chin high, like the former queen that she was, and gave Obi-Wan and Anakin a slightly strained smile. “You’ll comm me when you’ve settled down? Holo me your new address, I’ll come visit when things have calmed down in the Senate Building.”

Both Anakin and Obi-Wan nodded, and they had no doubts that she would. Padme, unlike Ahsoka, unlike the High Council, could have as many emotional attachments as she wished. And now, so could they. 

“Of course,” Obi-Wan assured her, and she moved over to give him a tight hug as well. He hugged her back just as tightly--he shared a special bond with her. Although she was most certainly Anakin’s best friend, he felt camaraderie with her, and she had been the first person he had ever confided in about his pregnancy. Nine months ago, he’d turned to her, and nine months later, here she she still was. “Thank you,” he said simply, and she understood. 

“Take care of him, will you?” Padme asked Obi-Wan, eyes flickering to Anakin, who puffed out his chest defensively. “He needs it.” 

“I always do,” Obi-Wan replied, reaching out to grab ahold of Anakin’s hand. “As he takes care of me when I need it.” 

Padme gave them both the fondest of smiles as she took a step back and prepared to head back to the Senate Building. “You know, the two of you are worth the entire High Council. Don’t forget that.” 

And with that she was gone, the train of her navy, feathered dress dragging along on the tarmac behind her. 

Obi-Wan reached out and touched his hand to Anakin’s shoulder, brushing his fingers against it softly. “Are you all right?”

Anakin nodded, allowing his wistful gaze after Padme for another second or two, then turned and wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan. “Mhhmm.” He hummed softly and let his hands brush across Obi-Wan’s shoulders affectionately, “Are you?”

Obi-Wan was quiet for a moment, his hands stilling on the small of Anakin’s back. “I will be,” he finally replied quietly, and his hands began their gentle stroking once more. 

Anakin pressed a kiss to Obi-Wan’s collar bone through the layers of his tunic and allowed Obi-Wan to guide him off of the tarmac and onto the ship. From the ship’s door, they both shared one final gaze at the city, the temple in the distance, then they looked at each other. The better view. 

“So, where are we headed?” Anakin asked, after they had shared a couple minutes of silence after they shut the ship’s door. 

“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan replied as he settled into the co-pilot’s seat after checking on Luke and Leia, “You’re the pilot, you tell me.” Obi-Wan grimaced slightly after sitting, as he was still a little sore postpartum. 

Anakin smiled and settled into the pilot’s seat, looking over at Obi-Wan with clear adoration painted across his face. They could have just stayed in this ship for the rest of their lives and Anakin would have been okay, so long as they were together. Though for practicality’s sake, living out of a small speeder probably wasn’t the best option… “Well, we’ve got the whole galaxy ahead of us... “ 

“That we do,” Obi-Wan replied, smiling over at Anakin and then looking out the front window of the ship. The whole galaxy, just the four of them. It should’ve sounded overwhelming, but instead it sounded...cozy. Just right. 

“The whole galaxy, so can we please, just pick a planet with no sand?” 

Obi-Wan turned his head and stared at Anakin in complete seriousness for a moment, before a smile broke out across his face and he laughed softly. “No sand? Okay. Well that narrows it down… to about half the solar system…”

“Should we just point at a map?” Anakin asked teasingly, closing his eyes and pretending to jab out at the display screen.

“Anakin--”

“How about--”

“Alderaan.” Obi-Wan said rather suddenly, and Anakin cracked one eye open, then looked over at Obi-Wan, as if waiting for elaboration. “Alderaan,” he repeated, to show that he was serious, glancing back at Luke and Leia, then back to Anakin. “It has mountainous terrain, so you shouldn’t have to worry too much about sand… It is the home planet of Senator Bail Organa, so we would have a contact there, for jobs, and whatnot. It is peaceful, which is why we’ve never been there on a mission, and it is considered “the planet of beauty” to the galaxy. The cities on Alderaan have been designed to respect the natural beauty of their environment--I think that it would be the perfect place for us to start anew.”

Anakin gazed at Obi-Wan, a warm feeling bubbling up in his stomach. He had never been to Alderaan, and he knew very little about it, except for its historical significance and importance in the Core Worlds, but it went without saying that he would have followed Obi-Wan to the ends of the galaxy. He flipped a few switches and engaged the engines, glancing over at Obi-Wan all the while. 

“To Alderaan.” 

.

.

Alderaan was absolutely beautiful. 

The Cloudshape Falls, the Isatabith rain forest--the wonders to explore sometimes still seemed endless, even after three years. Leia loved to feel the spray of mist on her face when they stood at the bottom of the falls, always giggling in delight when Obi-Wan would hold her up into the spray. Anakin would be lying back in the grass, feet dangling into the river while Luke laid on his chest, occasionally crawling off and rolling in the grass before crawling back to Anakin, or before Anakin dragged him back so he didn’t toddle off into the river, whichever came first. 

Luke loved the rain forest, always pointing at any pretty fauna or flora from where he sat perched on Anakin’s hip as they walked through the shrouded paths. Obi-Wan always seemed to know the classification of everything and would proceed to tell them all, while holding Leia’s hand and allowing her to walk somewhat uneasily in between him and Anakin. 

The twins were still too young for swimming, but sometimes Anakin and Obi-Wan would permit them to lie by the waterbanks, peering over the edge and looking at their own reflections, giggling when they would reach down and splash the water. Obi-Wan and Anakin would lounge nearby, a tangle of limbs, stealing kisses when the twins weren’t paying attention. 

During the winter time, snow glistened on the peaks of Alderaan’s impressive mountains, and they would all go sledding. Anakin always homemade their sleds, constructing a safe sled that they would all be able to fit on. He would hassle Obi-Wan to remember to wear a scarf, and Obi-Wan would hassle him right back, and they would bundle the twins up until they looked like small puffy clouds, and then they would take the ship up to a clearing in the mountains and try out Anakin’s latest sled. No matter how infallible the sled was, no matter how strategic, it always seemed to result in the four of them landing tangled up in the snow. Luke and Leia always laughed--except for the occasions when Luke would cry--and Anakin would always huff, burned by the dubious success of his sled, until Obi-Wan pinned him against the snow and kissed away any of his frustrations. 

Of course, by that point, they were all soaking from the snow and they would shiver and Luke would cry, the whole way back home, where they would wrap up in as many blankets as they could find and Obi-Wan would make some of his hot chocolate that he had finally perfected.

It had been four years since Obi-Wan and Anakin had gotten on their ship, flown away from Coruscant, and never looked back. They had headed for Alderaan, and to Alderaan they had gone. Obi-Wan had commed Senator Bail Organa from the ship and informed him of their situation-- _ well, you see, Senator Organa, you remember my apprentice Anakin Skywalker? He and I are actually on our way to Alderaan right now--with our twins. We are looking for a place to start a home, and we are hoping that place can be Alderaan--oh, you will? Thank you, so much. Your hospitality will never be forgotten.  _

Senator Organa was a good man, and he had hospitably offered up a guest room in the palace for Obi-Wan and Anakin to stay in until they were able to find a home of their own in the city. From his work with Obi-Wan in the Senate, Bail had grown to trust him and deeply respected him, and did everything he could to ease Obi-Wan’s and Anakin’s transition to life on Alderaan. Not only did he help them find a home--a beautiful, stately home on the outskirts of the city, made of the typical white synthstone--but he helped Obi-Wan find a job in diplomacy. Alderaan needed senators to stay on the planet--since Obi-Wan’s one stipulation on a job was that he couldn’t leave Anakin and the twins, even just for trips--to work on negotiations and peace treaties, and Bail told Obi-Wan that he thought he was perfect for the job.

So Obi-Wan worked in the palace, in  _ politics _ , and Anakin managed to get a job as an engineer for the Republic. He designed droids, ships--made advancements in the intricacies of technology in hopes to best any advanced technology fed to the Separatists. Both of them had found their ways to continue to give back to the Republic--Anakin through something that he had always enjoyed doing and Obi-Wan through something that he had always been good at doing. 

Anakin worked from home for the most part, as their house was large enough for him to have a real workshop, so he no longer just laid a smorgasbord of parts out across their bedroom floor like he had done at the Temple, something Obi-Wan was unreasonably thankful for. On the occasions that Anakin did need to go in for a meeting for work, Obi-Wan would simply take the twins to work in the palace with him. They always enjoyed those days, oggling at the fancy architecture and the ornate furniture. Their house was certainly nice, but due to Anakin and Obi-Wan’s personal tastes, it was much more minimalist and modern than the antiques and tradition of the palace. Obi-Wan would usually leave the door to the balcony open in his designated meeting room and allow Luke and Leia to play out there and look at the rushing waterfall, while he worked inside and kept an eye on them. 

Moving to Alderaan had been idealistic in almost every way possible, and they largely had Bail to thank for that. The Senator had no children of his own, but Obi-Wan and Anakin would frequently invite him and his partner over for dinner or for nightcaps. Luke and Leia both liked the Senator, though Luke was rather shy around almost everyone who wasn’t in the family, so Obi-Wan and Anakin had already resolved that whenever, rather  _ if _ ,  the Senator had children, they would definitely schedule play dates. 

Senator Organa and many of Obi-Wan’s other colleagues provided the two of them with acquaintances, outside adult companionship, as most of their previous connections were more or less forbidden by their hearts, by the Jedi Code, to speak with them. Anakin had not heard a word for Ahsoka since he left her on the tarmac. He had no clue how she was, if she was still training under her new master or if she had taken, and passed, the Trials. Sometimes he expected her to comm him, to receive a holovid from her, but he never did. He was as proud as he was sad-- _ no emotional attachments _ . He had never been a good Jedi, he’d always broken, not just bent, the rules, and he most certainly would have sent a holovid or commed, snuck away to visit, if his master, his beloved Obi-Wan, had done what he did to Ahsoka. She was obviously a stronger Jedi that he was, with better self restraint. His pride served as the only comfort each time he received a message and it was never from her. 

Padme, on the other hand, did follow through on her promise. She had been pleased to hear that they chose Alderaan for their relocation, and promised that she would visit them when they had a house picked out and had gotten settled. Surely enough, no sooner had they gotten all their things settled in their new house, then Padme asked if the following weekend worked for a social call. They had told her that they would be glad to receive her, and so she had arrived, giving Anakin a bone-crushing hug, before catching Obi-Wan for one as well and gushing over how much the twins had  _ grown _ . It was the first time she visited them, but it certainly was not the last, she had made it her business to visit them as regularly as she possibly could. Obi-Wan and Anakin had shown her around Alderaan, though she had visited the planet once before, and she marvelled over how beautiful everything was. The wistfulness in her eyes told Anakin and Obi-Wan how much the wars had been getting to her, what a toll her work took on her, and they tried very hard not to rub their newfound domestic, peaceful existence in her face. Besides, that same wistfulness still crossed their eyes, particularly Obi-Wan’s. 

Padme had joyfully played with the twins--as well as anyone could play with two six-month old babies--until it was bedtime. Obi-Wan had offered to put the twins to sleep so Anakin and Padme could talk and catch up, and Anakin had gratefully accepted the offer and kissed Obi-Wan smack on the mouth. He remembered catching a slightly shocked expression on Padme’s face and realized that although she knew they were together, she had never seen them engage in PDA together, since they’d had to keep their relationship on the DL almost the entire time they knew her. After Obi-Wan ushered the twins back to the nursery, Padme and Anakin had settled back into the couch and almost immediately fell into gossiping. Padme told him about all the going-ons in the senate, the very slow rebuild, and the high tensions as the Separatists had retreated but only to re-strategize. A new Sith had indeed emerged, Master Yoda had felt the disturbance in the Force but no one knew who yet, there had been no whispers in the galaxy, which was perhaps the most unnerving part of it all. Anakin had bristled when Padme mentioned the Jedi Council, and he told her that he didn’t want to know too much about it, but he did ask if she knew anything about Ahsoka. She had shook her head sadly and told him that she hadn’t seen her, or heard anything, as she really didn’t see Jedis that often, aside from dealings with the High Council.  _ I could ask around, if you’d like, or put in a special request for her,  _ Padme had offered, and then it was Anakin’s turn to sadly shake his head.  _ Wouldn’t want to arouse suspicion. Besides, maybe it’s better this way, maybe I’m better of not knowing _ . They had dropped discussion of Coruscant after that, and there had been a lull in conversation, until Padme had finally glanced around the room, then leaned in a little bit, twirling a loose strand of hair around her finger.  _ So, how is it? Here? With Obi-Wan? Two kids, a house…are you thinking about getting a dog soon?  _ Anakin had rolled his eyes and informed her that _ no _ ,  _ no dog soon  _ because Obi-Wan was crazy allergic to dog hair, so if they got anything it would have to be a cat, but  _ what if Luke and Leia terrorized it?  _ No, it was better to hold off on pets for a few years…  _ And it’s good, really, you know…. It’s different, without the missions, without the High Council… I can tell that Obi-Wan misses it, even when he’s happy he still misses it. But I think--I don’t know, I think we can really make a life here, Padme. I love Alderaan--it’s the kind of planet I dreamed of when I was a kid back on Tatooine. I just wish that my mother could have lived to see it, to meet Luke and Leia… Obi-Wan’s parents are still alive, but he doesn’t have any interest in rekindling a relationship with them, and of course, I’ll support him. I just wish Luke and Leia had grandparents… If they ever grow up and have children of their own, I swear I’ll be the best grandfather there ever was.  _ Padme had snorted then and told him that she couldn’t imagine him as a grandfather and he had drawn himself up indignation.  _ Then again, I never could have seen you as a father, yet here we are. Luke and Leia obviously adore you already _ . Anakin had deflated then, acquiesced and not-so-secretly pleased by the praise. He had carded his hand through his hair and nervously replied  _ yeah, I hope so.  _ Padme had leaned across the couch to squeeze his knee and looked up into his eyes.  _ Honestly. I think you can make a life here, too, Anakin, and I’m so happy for you--just give Obi-Wan a little bit of time. You know how much he loves you, it’s just a lot of change at once, Ani.  _

Anakin had nodded, and true to Padme’s words, he did give Obi-Wan time. 

It had been four years since Obi-Wan and Anakin had left the Jedi Order. 

When they had first arrived on Alderaan, Obi-Wan had his moments, despite being in love with the beauty, the culture, the peace of Alderaan. He had his moments where he wondered how he could ever be happy in a place like that, with nothing more than domestic bliss to keep him occupied.

However, Obi-Wan firmly believed in doing everything one would do with a purpose. So he lapsed into domesticity with everything he had--he read bedtime stories to the twins,  he cooked dinner--when the weather was nice, he would even  _ cook outside _ , while Luke and Leia ran around and Anakin sat around and watched him and drank wine.  

He tucked the twins in every night with Anakin, both of them kissing the children goodnight on their small heads, then they slipped off down the hall to their bedroom, to tiredly convince each other to make love. 

He gazed into Anakin’s eyes and thought about all the times he’d done so in the past, never knowing when it might be their last time, never knowing when he might be forced to give Anakin up, or when the Council would find out, or when separate assignments and Anakin being a Jedi Master in his own right might tear them apart. Those past fears, uncertainties, they didn’t exist for him anymore. He knew now that he would never have to give Anakin up, it would never be their last time, nothing could ever tear them apart, not now.

It made the melancholy taste a little sweeter on the back of his tongue. 

.

.

“Ah--ah--ah, yeah, right  _ there  _ Obi-Wan--ah--mmmff--”

“Ani, shhh. You’ll wake the twins, you’re being so loud,” Obi-Wan murmured, covering Anakin’s mouth with his hand firmly as he thrust rhythmically, but slowly, into the man beneath him. The bed remained silent with their motions--the durasteel bed frame holding strong, though the sheets crinkled as they they slid against them. Obi-Wan had finally gotten aggravated with the comforter and kicked it down to the foot of the bed before returning his full attentions to Anakin. 

“ _ Mmmfff _ \--” Anakin’s barely stifled moan gave Obi-Wan the indication that he wasn’t going to quiet down anytime soon, and he licked against the palm of Obi-Wan’s hand that was pressed to his mouth. 

“ _ Ani _ \--”

In one fluid motion, Anakin toppled them. Obi-Wan found himself unceremoniously sprawled out on the mattress, Anakin on top, hands pressing down against his chest as he moved. All Obi-Wan could do was gaze at him, breathless and eyes hooded with the lust, as Anakin built up a steady rhythm, rubbing his hands up and down Obi-Wan’s chest as he sunk down onto him over and over again. He was beautiful, even in the dim lights of their bedroom, and Obi-Wan brought his hands up reverently to rest on Anakin’s hips. Even after all these years, Anakin still managed to take his breath away, always so  _ tight _ , always so eager to please… He was more than Obi-Wan deserved. 

“Are you going to make me do all the work?” Anakin teased, thighs trembling slightly with the concerted effort it was taking for him to pick himself up and then slide himself back down onto Obi-Wan’s cock. Obi-Wan’s hands moved down to squeeze Anakin’s shaky thighs, listened to the way that Anakin sharply gasped, then slid his hands back up to rest on his hips. 

“Maybe,” he teased, eyes glued to the rise and fall of Anakin’s narrow hips, and he considered throwing Anakin off of him, just so he could bend down and bite at his hipbones. He would mourn losing the heat of Anakin’s insides though, so he just contented himself with rubbing his thumbs over the protruding bones. 

Anakin huffed but didn’t stop his movements, if anything he rode Obi-Wan more aggressively than before, abdomen and thighs trembling with the strain. “ _ Ohhhh--Ah! _ ”

Obi-Wan rolled his hips unexpectedly and sharply thrust up into Anakin, impaling him deeper than before and painting an expression of pure bliss on his face. He repeated the motion again, and watched Anakin arch his back and gasp out little pleas for Obi-Wan not to stop. 

“ _ Ahh---mm, Obi-Wan.. _ ” 

“ _ Quiet, Anakin _ ,” Obi-Wan teased, hands moving to grip Anakin’s pert ass, squeezing firmly then slapping him lightly to nonverbally prompt him to move faster. Anakin whined, but complied, allowing Obi-Wan to grip his ass and fuck up into him hard. Each of Obi-Wan’s thrusts nailed his prostate and being on top allowed him no reprieve, Obi-Wan was mercilessly splitting him open and hitting his g-spot each time, and Anakin knew he couldn’t last like this. His hands scrambled to brace against Obi-Wan’s chest, head tipping forward, he was barely moving at all on his own accord now, just allowing Obi-Wan to push his cock deeper and deeper with each motion. Anakin’s own cock was straining against his stomach, and Obi-Wan wasn’t even touching him, and he still felt his impending orgasm creep up.

“Mmm...I’m going to  _ come _ \-- _ Ah! _ ” Anakin cried out as his orgasm hit him hard, back arching and head thrown back. Cum splattered across Obi-Wan’s stomach and chest, and Anakin’s ass clenched around him, which pretty much sealed the deal for Obi-Wan’s orgasm as well. Quickly, he pressed Anakin, who went down easy, still too busy riding out his post-orgasmic bliss, down onto the mattress and buried himself to the hilt in Anakin’s ass, then came hard with a groan of Anakin’s name and a fistful of Anakin’s hair. 

Anakin whined and laid limp as he felt Obi-Wan fill him with heat, thick and sweet, and he wanted to reach up and stroke Obi-Wan’s hair, but his arms were too weak, so instead he just let Obi-Wan finish his release and panted, wincing just slightly as he felt a mixture of cum and lubricant start to leak out of his ass. There was no doubt that there was a large wet spot in the middle of their bed--and Anakin had  _ just  _ put fresh sheets on the day before. 

Breathing heavy and still coming in pants, Anakin gazed up at Obi-Wan, legs still wrapped around his hips, ankles crossed just above his ass. His eyes were wide and lips parted just slightly and flushed.  _ I love you _ . “That was--”

Before he could get a  _ terrific  _ or  _ amazing  _ out of his mouth, a piercing cry came from down the hall and they both froze, until they heard the sound of padding feet in the hallway, then Leia’s shrill cry of exasperation--

“Luke!!” 

Immediately Anakin and Obi-Wan were hissing out accusation as they sprung apart-- _ told you that you were being too loud!--Me?? You’re the one who decided to fuck me like some sort of porn star, what did you expect, total and complete silence?? _ \--until they finally ceased their bickering in favour of getting into a semi-decent state. Anakin grabbed his soft black, cotton robe and push it on, hastily tying the clingy material and trying not to pay attention to how the fabric stuck against his ass, wetness seeping through. Obi-Wan had all but rolled off the bed and onto the floor,  where he grabbed his discarded clothes and haphazardly threw a few of them back on, brushing a hand through his hair quickly and moving to stand behind Anakin. It would have been obvious to almost anyone what they were doing--both flushed, a few pieces of Anakin’s hair sticking to his forehead, and quickly dressed--but thankfully it wasn’t almost anyone who slid their bedroom open, it was their four and a half year old twins, who had no idea what they had been doing, despite their sexed up appearance. Obi-Wan let out a sigh of relief--there would be plenty of time to explain to the twins why he and Anakin liked to get naked and wrap around each other in bed later in life, he saw no reason to rush such a conversation. 

Luke was standing in the doorway, bottom lip trembling slightly, clutching his pale pink blanket in one hand and his stuffed lion in the other. Leia was standing behind him, hair still up in the braided buns that Obi-Wan had given her before bed, arms crossed over his chest. 

“I  _ told _ him you were fine--” she insisted petulantly, but Luke started babbling over top of her worriedly. 

“Father, are you  _ okay? _ ” Luke asked, eyes still wide as he gazed up at Anakin in confusion, blinking slowly once, twice, three times before continuing. “Heard you  _ scream _ \--felt you...felt it, it felt  _ different _ .  _ Strong _ .”

Obi-Wan had to hide a snort behind his hand and Anakin elbowed him in the side, somewhat inconspicuously. Still very young, Luke and Leia didn’t fully understand the Force or what they felt from it. All they understood so far was that they could feel each other’s, and their parents, emotions without words. The stronger the emotion, the stronger the Force. However, they still were learning how to read what they felt, and Anakin realized, much to his embarrassment, that the twins must have felt his strong climax in his Force signature--he’d been too wrapped up to properly shield--and Luke had mistaken it for distress. It must have woken them up. Anakin fought against the desire to hide his face, and instead smiled gently, bending down so that he could be on Luke’s level, and he kissed the blond’s forehead. 

“I’m fine,” he promised, gently ruffling Luke’s floppy hair, “Dad and I are fine. We were just spending some time together--sometimes the Force feels it when we do that.” 

Obi-Wan tried not to snort again at his other half’s valiant, but awkward, attempt at explaining the situation to Luke. 

“I told you,  _ I told you  _ that wasn’t how the Force  _ feels  _ when someone gets hurt!” Leia chided her twin, who still looked wholly unconvinced. 

“Worried…” Luke murmured, rubbing at his eyes. He was obviously still sleepy, and Leia was too, although she tried to conceal it better, Obi-Wan and Anakin didn’t miss her stifled yawn. 

“Awww…” Anakin ruffled Luke’s hair again and glanced up at Obi-Wan, who also bent down and stroked Luke’s hair back into place.

“What would make you feel better, Luke?” Obi-Wan asked, trying to smooth a tuft of hair down that just wouldn’t lie in place. 

Luke blinked a few times, hesitant, then gave a longing glance to their bed. “Can I sleep with you tonight?” 

“Of course,” Obi-Wan replied, and Anakin nodded his agreement as well. They had slept with the twins in their bed before, of course, when they had been newborns they often slept better in bed with them then they did in their cribs. Obi-Wan had told him that was common for Force-sensitive newborns. They were more perceptive than the average baby, and picked up on more stimuli. Being closer to their parents’ Force signatures was a calming influence, and also numbed some of the other feedback that they might receive from their surroundings. Anakin had never minded, the twins were always warm and sometimes cooed in their sleep, and Anakin found it equally as soothing to be around his children’s Force signatures. 

“Well if  _ Luke’s  _ sleeping here,  _ I  _ want to sleep here, too,” Leia added in, but Luke was already grasping at her hand, their tiny hands interlocking seamlessly, and dragging her toward the bed. 

“Come on then, Leia,” he said, yawning as he gripped at the forgotten duvet and tried to clean up. 

“Wait--” 

Anakin wanted to change the sheets, but it was too late, the twins had already clambered into the middle of the bed, not seeming to mind, or notice, the slightly soiled dirty sheets. Anakin shot a helpless look at Obi-Wan, who just offered a soft smile in return. 

Anakin sighed, resigned and a little amused. “Fine, you guys go ahead and get comfortable. I just need to change.” He took a set of pyjamas with him and disappeared into the freshener. He didn’t do much, just brushed a few tangles out of his hair and cleaned the worst of the fluids off of his thighs so that he didn’t wake up with dried cum and lubricant caked there, and then slipped on his pyjamas. He fanned his fingers over his neck and collarbone when he saw hints of purple marking him. He shivered. When they had still been apart of the Order, Obi-Wan had been very cautious about making him, making sure to only do so on his thighs and chest, areas that no one would see. Now, however, his other half marked him much more indiscriminately, and Anakin always felt a thrill of pride at wearing the marks, especially when some of his fellow engineers would make comments to him when he went into base to display his blueprints and swap out equipment.  _ Oh, look, now we know why Skywalker always works from home.  _

When Anakin got back into the bedroom, the twins were already fast asleep--they  _ must  _ have been tired--curling up and facing each other with their foreheads pressed together. Luke’s back was pressed to Obi-Wan, who was also tucked into bed, but not asleep. His eyes tracked Anakin as he crossed the room and crawled into bed and other side of Leia. She must have sensed it because she subconsciously gravitated closer to him when he got under the covers. 

Anakin smiled fragilely and looked over at Obi-Wan after he got settled into their bed. It was a bit of a tight fit with the addition of the sprawled out twins, but pleasantly snug rather than claustrophobic. 

“Told you that you were being too loud,” Obi-Wan murmured as he dimmed the lights then shut them completely off with the flick of his wrist.

“Mm, your fault,” Anakin murmured back, slinging an arm of the twins and cuddling down into the duvet, letting his eyes slip shut. It had been a long day--he’d spent the first half of it redrawing the same eight squares of a blueprint, then he’d taken the twins shopping for new winter wear in the afternoon while waiting for Obi-Wan to get home. They had spent the evening playing games, then he and Obi-Wan had played their own game, which had left his thighs a little weak and his body utterly spent. Anakin had no doubt that he would sleep soundly that night.

As Obi-Wan gazed at his sleeping family next to him, so intertwined and content, he had no doubts that he would either. 

.

.

Since leaving The Order, the amount of nightmares that Anakin had were drastically reduced. Of course, he still had them every so often, mostly the haunting, warped face of Palpatine, back to seek revenge against him, but now when he awoke in horror, Obi-Wan was always there to nestle him into safety, murmuring that it was all over now, and nobody like Palpatine would ever hurt them again. 

So, when Anakin was awoken by warm breath on his face and the feeling of a pair of eyes boring into him, he simply opened his eyes with slow blinks and yawned, entirely unalarmed, when once upon a time he probably would have gone into cardiac arrest. 

Eyelids slipped open to reveal the sight of his son’s bright blue eyes, scant centimetres from his, a little crooked. He had fallen asleep on the couch, he realized as he shifted, and Luke was kneeling in front of it, nose almost pressed to his, obviously waiting for him to wake up. 

“Oh, good, you’re awake!” Luke said happily, pulling back slightly and smiling when Anakin reached out and caught his mechanical hand in Luke’s floppy blonde locks. 

“Mmhhmm,” Anakin replied, still a little groggy but smiling beatifically at his son anyway. The house was quiet, and he sat up slightly, rubbing at his eyes. “Everything okay? Where’s your dad and sister?” 

“Dad left to take her to go shopping for new snow boots,” Luke explained, sounding just a little glum with the explanation. 

Anakin raised an eyebrow. “And you didn’t want to go?” he asked.

“Nah,” Luke replied, shuffling his feet slightly and casting his eyes away from Anakin, who prodded him nonverbally with a small tendril of the Force. “Uh, Dad didn’t want to wake you up, and I didn’t want to leave you here alone.” 

Anakin kind of felt like crying, but thankfully his eyes were too dry from his impromptu nap. “Luke, that’s  _ very  _ sweet,” Anakin said, reaching out and patting the couch next to him, to gesture for Luke to sit down next to him, “But you could’ve gone with them, I wouldn’t have minded.”

“Okay,” Luke replied, kicking his feet slightly as they dangled just above the floor once he sat down. 

Anakin smiled again and ran fingers through his own, slightly tangled hair, then nudged Luke. “Hey, how about this--in a little bit we’ll go out and get ice cream? Just you and me?” 

This time, Luke smiled, genuinely, showcasing a few spaces between his teeth as he’d just recently started losing his baby teeth. “Aw, really, Father? You mean it?”

“Yeah, of course I do,” Anakin replied with a soft smile, sitting up the rest of the way and yawning again. “I’ll even let you get a chocolate cone, if you don’t mention it to Dad.”

Luke smiled even wider. 

The silence between them didn’t last too long, and soon Luke’s soft, slightly whiny, voice wafted out into the quiet room again. “Hey, Father?”

“Mmm?”

“Could you tell me that story again, the one about you and Aunt Padme rescuing Dad from Count Dooku?” 

Anakin laughed softly--he knew that Obi-Wan would have some grievances with the phrasing of that story, but Anakin could always play the ‘ _ I lost an arm! _ ’ card and that trumped every time. “Why do you want to hear that one again?” he asked, more genuinely curious than anything. He and Obi-Wan had tried very hard not to hide their pasts from their children, being open about their experiences as Jedi, while still sparing their relatively young children the more traumatizing aspects. Anakin had overdramatically told the twins that his big showdown with Dooku was how he got  _ this _ , waving his mechanical arm around menacingly to make them laugh, but he didn’t add how he’d passed out from the pain, how he’d charged Dooku when he saw Obi-Wan laying on the ground, how many emotions had flickered through his mind, his core, in those scant moments and how many of them had been  _ fear.  _ Maybe one day he would tell the twins. But for now, he was their protectorate, they were the light and he would shield them from the darkness. Especially from his own darkness. 

Luke kind of shrugged, then blinked over at Anakin. “I dunno…” 

Anakin waited.

Luke kicked at the edge of the couch before finally continuing. “Just--you used to be a Jedi! That’s so  _ cool _ \--how do you never talk about it?” 

“I talk about it,” Anakin replied with a sniff, a little caught off guard by the accusation. He’d tried his very best to be open about his past, but there was so much baggage with it, so much he would’ve preferred his children never know about, and from time to time Obi-Wan had seemed just one ill-timed story away from mourning, or withdrawing completely, so Anakin didn’t exactly broach the subject  _ often _ . Only as often as their children asked him to. “What do you mean I don’t talk about it?”

“I mean...only when we ask,” Luke replied plainly, and Anakin almost cursed having such perceptive children. 

“It was a long time ago,” Anakin replied honestly, a little tiredly. Even thinking about everything from his Jedi days--being a brash young Jedi who had charged into a huge trap, dragging Padme, his best friend and almost-crush at the time, into it with him and ending up chained to a pillar in a colosseum, all because he had been so desperate to save Obi-Wan and determined that he was the best man for the job; it  _ almost  _ seemed like something that someone else entirely had done. Of course, Anakin knew, deep down, that if anyone dared to hurt Obi-Wan, or Luke or Leia, he would revert back into that impulsive nineteen-year-old boy, as he still knew that he would raze a galaxy to keep them all safe. He no longer had to, though, and sometimes he couldn’t believe that at one point, he’d had to fight tooth and nail for  _ everything _ . For his freedom, his safety,  _ Obi-Wan’s _ safety. When Obi-Wan had first met him, he’d been a  _ slave _ . He’d bet his freedom on winning in a  _ podrace _ . For the first nine years of his life, everyone had made him believe he was only worth as much as someone would pay for him. It had been a long haul since then, and it was still somehow almost like a fugue for Anakin to realize that his children would never understand the cold bites of slavery, and he thanked every star in the galaxy, and every inch of the Force, for that. That was a part of his life he’d yet to share with the twins; one day, he would. One day he would explain how the universe could be horrible place, how brutal life could be just a few light years away, how the Force worked in mysterious, yet cruelly unfair, ways. How he had been a slave living on a planet of dust, and now he was a legendary former Jedi Master, a father of two beautiful children, and the partner of the most beautiful man he’d ever met, living on the most beautiful planet in the star system. He would explain that his mother had been a slave living on a planet of dust, and she had died there. One day, Anakin would explain a lot of things.

For now, he would say nothing.

“If I were a Jedi,” Luke declared brashly, “It’s all I’d  _ ever  _ talk about!”

Anakin snorted. “Is it, now?” 

“Yes,” Luke replied determinedly, “It’s so  _ cool _ \--I mean, you saved people, you protected the whole galaxy!” 

“I help people now, with my new job,” Anakin replied neutrally, “Isn’t that cool?” 

Luke stared at his father, a little blankly. “You don’t use a  _ lightsaber  _ at your new job, Father,” he replied, as though it were the simplest thing in the entire world. 

_ I saw a magic man, with a sword made out of light. _

Anakin stared back for what felt like an unending minute, then laughed, though there was something just a touch bittersweet about his laugh. “No, I don’t,” he agreed, then leaned over to ruffle Luke’s hair and to push himself off the couch. “Now, come on, let’s go get ice cream.” 

Luke followed. 

He didn’t ask to hear another Jedi story for a while. 

.

“Dad, may I ask you something?” 

Obi-Wan looked up from his datapad and blinked at his daughter, who was sitting on the other side of his desk, pale blue sock-covered ankles crossed as she tapped at her own datapad mindlessly. Anakin was off-planet for a few days; he had been needed to test some equipment and after swearing, and getting several other engineers from his work to verify, that it was completely and 100% safe, he had invited the kids to go along with him. Luke had, of course, been gung-ho about going, but Leia hadn’t wanted to miss that much school. Obi-Wan and Anakin had both assured her that she wouldn’t fall behind in any way, but she had still shrugged off the offer. Luke had been a little sulky about it, though he’d been somewhat pleased to have the opportunity for his father’s undivided attention. So responsibility for Leia had fallen to him for the week, which was completely fine by him, anyhow. Though he wouldn’t have resented the kids an opportunity to travel with their father, it would’ve gotten a bit lonely around their house for the week had he been the only one. Obi-Wan may have once been a creature who craved simple isolation, who enjoyed being alone more than he enjoyed camaraderie, but now that he had a family, that had all changed. Obi-Wan enjoyed the comforting simplicity of living with other people, the warmth of a house filled with four unique, yet interconnected, Force signatures. 

Now, Leia’s white, wispy Force signature pulsated on the other side of his desk, reaching for him just a moment before she spoke. She had been working on homework, and Obi-Wan had told her to ask if she needed any help, even though he was at work. He would never turn down an opportunity to help if he was needed. 

“Of course,” came Obi-Wan’s response, and he set his datapad aside in order to give her his full undivided attention. 

“How did you and Father meet?” Leia didn’t miss a beat in asking her question, and Obi-Wan breathed in deeply, almost regretting his word choice. 

“Uh, we’ve told you that before, haven’t we?” Obi-Wan replied diplomatically, shoving a few pieces of flimsi around his desk, as Leia continued her unwavering stare. “We meet as Jedis.” 

“Well, yeah,” Leia replied plaintively, “but that’s not very specific. What happened?” 

Obi-Wan sighed, and wondered why he vowed never to lie to his children. Perhaps that hadn’t been such a good move after all. He cleared his throat and tried to drum up all of his self-respect--everything that happened between him and Anakin felt like an entire lifetime ago, it felt like a galaxy had died and been reborn since the first time his padawan had pulled him in and kissed him smack in the middle of a mission. Obi-Wan knew that the person he was now, though easy enough to say as he was a parent and a committed partner, would  _ never  _ kiss a teenager under his care, but the person he had been back then...well, it was hard to regret being that person, when it had led to what he had now. How did he explain that to his ten-year-old daughter, though? 

Badly, was apparently the answer.

“Well, Leia, I actually met your father when he was about your age--”

_ Terrible, no, red alert! _

Obi-Wan stopped, and Leia looked more vaguely confused than traumatized, her head tilting. “You guys met as kids?” 

Obi-Wan grimaced. “Ah--no.” 

Leia looked more confused than before, and Obi-Wan sighed. 

“Your father was...my padawan, as Jedi call it. My learner, if you will. I taught him all that I could, until he finally actually came to surpass me, and became my partner.” There, that sounded...less terrible. 

Leia blinked. “So… you were his mentor?”

“Essentially, yes.” 

“And then you ended up getting married?” 

“Yes.” 

Leia blinked again, musing over this new timeline presented to her. “So,” she reasoned carefully, “It would be like if I grew up to marry Senator Organa?” 

Obi-Wan choked. “ _ No!  _ No, Leia--it wouldn’t be like that  _ at all! _ ”

The words seemed to flair up a little defiance within Leia and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Why not?”

“It’s different,” Obi-Wan said with a grand sigh, shaking his head, “ _ trust me _ , it’s different.” 

“How?”

“It just  _ is _ \--there was  _ less  _ of an age difference between your father and I,” Obi-Wan argued futilely. “Besides, being  Jedi, following the Jedi Path… It’s like a whole other world. It’s not the same as how things are here.” 

Leia still didn’t look convinced. 

Obi-Wan switched tactics. “Besides, Senator Organa is already married, remember? You’ve met his partner, she’s a lovely person, don’t you think?” 

This seemed to sway Leia, and she nodded slowly. “That’s true,” she finally agreed, reaching up to pat at the french fishtail braids in her hair. “You weren’t married when you met Father, were you?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Absolutely not. Your father has always been the only one for me.” Words straight from the heart, and despite their perhaps less than romantic meeting on Tatooine while Anakin was a child and Obi-Wan had barely been more than that himself, he found his heart aching for his other half. However they had gotten together, he was inexplicably glad that they had. “Besides,” he added as more of a pointless afterthought than anything, “Jedis aren’t allowed to marry anyway.”

Leia nodded, a fact that she had already known though was not at the forefront of her mind. She lapsed back into silence, but her Force signature was still alight and she didn’t go back to her homework. 

“Is there any particular reason you were wanting to know, Leia?” Obi-Wan asked, tilting his head slightly.

Leia gazed at him, her features soft and a little blank. “I don’t know,” she replied honestly. 

Obi-Wan smiled warmly and sent a gentle tendril of his Force out to entwine with hers, and finally saw her give a hint of a smile. He dropped the conversation.

So did Leia. 

.

.

“Luke, what have I told you about using the Force?” 

No sooner had Luke hopped up on the countertop, levitating an apple over to him from the fruit bowl a few feet away and biting into it loudly, juice spraying everywhere, then Obi-Wan trailed after him, bursting into the kitchen with a scowl and crossed arms. Anakin was chopping peppers, and simply gave Luke a vaguely irritated, but fond, expression and moved the cutting board a few inches away from where his son now perched on the kitchen island, smiling slightly at Obi-Wan’s disgruntlement. It felt like just yesterday that Obi-Wan had given him the same spiels about  _ gross and casual misuse  _ of the Force. 

“That it is the greatest honour in all of the galaxy?” Luke offered, and Obi-Wan raised one eyebrow challengingly. “...and that using it to do everyday, mundane tasks is a  _ gross and casual misuse _ .” 

Obi-Wan just rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath like  _ you take after your father _ , before ambling into the kitchen and moving up behind Anakin, wrapping both arms around his waist and pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. “What’s for dinner?” he asked, pressing another kiss to the side of Anakin’s neck, which made Anakin laugh, then hum softly and lean back into him. 

“I haven’t entirely decided yet. I was thinking about trying that stirfry that we tried on Naboo… I found the recipe on holonet, it looks easy enough… _ oof _ ,” Anakin softly gasped when Obi-Wan gripped his hips and turned him around so that they could kiss on the mouth, then smiled and wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck. 

“Awww come on,” Luke whined, looking away from the sight of his parents kissing and kicking his feet at the drawers on the kitchen island, “stop it, will you? I actually need to talk to you guys about something.” 

Obi-Wan and Anakin both laughed when they pulled apart, and Obi-Wan moved over to the other side of the kitchen to make a fresh cup of caf, while Anakin continued to chop vegetables, the easy and monotonous move of the knife sliding through the pepper was soothing to Anakin, and he glanced up at Luke, prompting him to continue. 

“Uhh… Well, I want to talk to you guys about the Jedi Order,” Luke said, fidgeting just slightly with the bottom of his tan poncho, “Today Wedge told me that he still can’t believe Anakin Skywalker,  _ The Chosen One _ , is my father, and it just got me thinking…”

“ _ Kriff! _ ” Anakin had felt Obi-Wan tense all the way across the kitchen, and it had affected him, or maybe it hadn’t--but either way, he’d put the knife through his finger, and now had a large gash almost down to the bone on his pointer finger, and was bleeding all over the vegetables. 

“Ani!” Obi-Wan was immediately at his side, one hand on his waist, guiding him toward the sink. 

“It’s fine, I’m fine, the knife just slipped…”

“Aww, Father, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to distract you--I just--” Luke trailed off as he slid off the counter, watching as Obi-Wan guided Anakin’s hand under the faucet, red-stained water running down the drain. 

“Not your fault,” Anakin replied, and he didn’t know why he felt like there was a lump at the back of his throat, why an impending sense of dread had made itself welcome in the kitchen and had taken its spot on the shelf right next to the paprika and above the marjoram. 

Luke approached him and Obi-Wan tentatively and sent a few tendrils of his Force out against the injured appendage. They were soothing, and stroked away some of the burning pain at Anakin’s fingertip, and Anakin offered Luke a small smile, of gratitude and also of pride. 

Luke was very strong with the Force, very strong indeed. Leia actually seemed to have more natural inclination with the Force, but she also seemed uninterested, uninclined to actually explore this natural ability of hers. Instead, she was much more interested in politics. When she had been a young child, Obi-Wan had taken her to work in the palace with him, alongside Senator Bail Organa. Now that she was fifteen, she shadowed Obi-Wan out of her own accord, and said that she saw no reason why they should stop at  _ one  _ Senator Kenobi. She wished to the be representative from Alderaan on Coruscant one day, once Senator Organa had retired, and neither Obi-Wan or Anakin had any doubt that she could be. 

Luke never talked about what he wanted to do, usually he just shrugged and smiled when asked that question, though the smile never quite matched his eyes. Luke had been fascinated with the Force from a very young age, and worked hard at becoming even more in-tuned with his own Force signature and all of the Force around him. He had all the makings to be a very great… 

Luke’s Force was still winded around his hand, and Anakin was momentarily struck by the familiarity Luke’s Force signature had. It felt very much like...well, like his own. 

“What did you want to talk about, Luke?” Anakin asked, a little blankly, as if speaking through a daze, allowing Obi-Wan to continue to clean his finger off. At the question, Obi-Wan also glanced up at Luke, blue eyes questioning and mouth beginning to turn down into a frown.

“...” Luke stood in silence for a moment before quickly shaking his head, blonde hair flopping everywhere with the quick movements, “Nothing. I guess I was just going to ask you guys to tell me some stories about your time in the Order, like you used to, remember? That’s all.” 

Anakin and Obi-Wan both blinked, and Anakin winced slightly when Obi-Wan’s thumb ran across the gash in his finger. “Yes, okay, Luke,” Obi-Wan was the first to answer, “After dinner, is that okay?” 

Luke nodded. “Of course.” 

Anakin smiled, and reached out to ruffle his hair with his non-injured hand. “Go tell your sister to expect dinner in about an hour, please.” 

Luke nodded, and just as suddenly as he had come, he was gone. Gone.

.

.

“Okay, bye Dad, bye Father, I’m leaving!” Leia yelled from the front door, and both Obi-Wan and Anakin, from where they sat together in the living room, could clearly hear her stomp her foot seconds later. “Luke! Come on,  _ hurry!  _ Han’s waiting out front!”

Stomping feet on the staircase, a huff,  _ you have lipstick on your teeth _ , the rattling of comms and keys,  _ thanks _ , then a very in-sync  _ bye! _ , the slam of the front door. 

Obi-Wan huffed softly. “Do you think that this Han will ever actually come to the front door?” 

Anakin just scoffed in response. After a moment of silence and consideration, he spoke. “I still can’t figure out which one he’s dating.” 

Obi-Wan laughed then, though he didn’t disagree. Han Solo was an older man, and though neither of the twins had admitted to it, he was a  _ smuggler _ . How the twins had managed to meet Han was still a bit of a mystery to them, but they understood that had been some sort of stand-off with a separatist fleet, and Han had a hand in saving them. Or, so Luke and Leia said. That may have just been a way to soften the blow of telling their parents that they were hanging out with a twenty-eight year old man, ten years their senior, with no respectable job or particular alliance or loyalty to the Republic. Considering the age gap that Anakin and Obi-Wan sported themselves, neither of them said anything to the twins out loud, and just contented themselves with quiet dissatisfaction and muttering back and forth about  _ Han Solo’s intentions. _

“Really, I thought I had it all figured, I thought it was definitely Han and Leia, but the other day I saw him sharing a smoke with Luke--right from the same stick--it didn’t exactly look platonic,” Anakin continued to rave, causing Obi-Wan to to scoff out something close to a laugh. 

“Well, if it’s Luke dating him--it’ll be a first,” Obi-Wan commended absent-mindedly. Anakin looked up at him and their eyes locked, a heavy understanding weighing between them as Anakin’s eyes darkened. They held the eye contact in silence for several moments, before Anakin dabbed his tongue at his lips and broke the reverie. 

“Yeah. It would.” 

.

.

"Hey Dad,"  
"Leia," Obi-Wan beamed, skin around his eyes crinkling, as he opened his arms and pulled his daughter into his arms, hugging her close and kissing the top of her head.  
Anakin watched the two of them embrace with a soft smile on his face, taking a drink of caf then sitting it down onto the counter. Leia had always gotten on better with Obi-Wan, since she and Luke were kids. They were so similar, in their deep respects for the Force, their quiet introspections, and their strong, commanding presences in the political scene. Anakin had never resented it though, even when his and Leia's rivalling tempers crashed, he still loved her, and he knew that she loved him. She was his moon, where Luke was his sun. Luke may have shined brighter, gotten more of his attention as he vowed to learn the ways of the Force and be a great Jedi, but Leia calmed the tides. If Luke felt like Anakin's legacy, Leia felt like his redemption. Anakin loved her.   
She did come over and give him a hug, though Anakin could sense just the slightest bit of tension rolling from her Force Signature. As hard as she had tried not to, Anakin knew that Leia blamed him for her brother's decision to leave home and follow the Jedi path. She and Luke had been inseparable growing up, they were twins, and now she was losing her other half. Anakin and Obi-Wan had heard them fighting about it the night before Luke left for training.   
_Leia, what_ ** _difference_** _does it make--you've got_ ** _Han_** _\--_ __  
A slap had reverberated off the walls then, and both Obi-Wan and Anakin could feel a faint pain in Luke's throbbing Force signature, and not just because of his stinging cheek.   
_How dare you._  
It had been nearly two years since Luke had left for training--he was training under Master Yoda himself, and soon he would be taking the trials to become a Master in his own right. Luke was the most skilled Jedi to join the Order since...well, since Anakin. Which was undoubtedly why their daughter blamed him more for Luke's decision to join, despite the fact that both of his parents were Jedi. Anakin often idly wondered how the kids would feel if they knew that it was Obi-Wan who had been devastated at leaving the Order, that he'd been more than happy to give up the Jedi life and it was Obi-Wan who had grappled with it, for even a few years after the twins were born. However, all Anakin would ever do was wonder, because he would never hurt either Luke or Leia, or Obi-Wan by revealing such a thing. He would shoulder the blame for Luke's path for the rest of time. If Leia needed someone to blame, then he was there. He had no problem letting Obi-Wan be the comforting, radiant parent. He was, after all, his infinitely better half.   
"How are you doing, honey?" Anakin asked, pressing a soft kiss to Leia's head in the same spot that Obi-Wan had.  
Leia gave him a small, but genuine, smile when she pulled away. "We're doing good, Father. Han's away on a job, and Ben, well, you know Ben is always looking for an excuse to stay here... Would it put you guys out terribly if we stayed for a while...? I’m not asking you to watch Ben all the time, but...I’m _really_ needed at the base. With Han away, there’s no one to stay with him, but, I’m sure you understand, the general can’t exactly be away from the base for more than a couple days, max. I just don’t want to leave him _all alone_ in our house--"  
"Leia." Anakin let his hands come to rest on her shoulders, squeezing gently. "You, and Ben, will always have a place in our home. You're always welcome here--you can stay as long as you like. As a matter of fact, darling, how quickly do you think we could have the upstairs spare room converted into a room for Ben?"  
"Hmm....within the hour, I'd say, Ani," Obi-Wan replied a little teasingly, gazing over at his partner and their daughter lovingly. "We might've been preparing for that a little bit in advance..."  
Leia rolled her eyes, but neither parent missed the smile on her face, smiles that were all too rare since Luke's departure. "Ha ha. It'll just be for a few weeks. Ben will be--"  
"Did they say yes, did they say yes??"  
Ben was seven years old, and still had so much energy. His Force signature reverberated joyously around the room as he bounded in, hands immediately tugging at Leia's tunic.   
"Ben," Obi-Wan chided in a playful voice, "how could we ever say no to our favourite grandchild?"   
Ben squealed excitedly and ran to Obi-Wan, tossing his arms around Obi-Wan's legs and squeezing, until Obi-Wan faltered in his balance a little, and Leia and Anakin both laughed.   
After a moment of animated babble, Leia and Ben switched places, Leia went to Obi-Wan to ask some mundane questions, probably about dinner and the works, while Ben ran over to Anakin so quickly that he almost tripped over his own feet.   
"Grandfather!"  
Anakin spread his arms, welcoming Ben into them, and happily picking the child up, letting him rest against his hip. His back cracked slightly with the movement, joints creaking, but he was used to it and didn't let it stop him. "How's our favourite grandson doing?" Anakin asked, pressing a soft kiss to Ben's forehead, beard tickling the child's face and making him giggle.   
"Great!" Ben burst out exuberantly, legs swaying slightly against Anakin's body, bouncing off as he shook them absently. "The other day, in class, the teacher had us write a paragraph about our heroes and I wrote mine about you. I said how you're a hero, because you were the greatest Jedi of all time, but you gave it all up to be with me, mom, Uncle Luke, and Grandpa, and that's why you're my hero. I wrote about how much I love you, and how much I hate Dad too, but it's okay because Mom and I have you and Grandpa, and we always will! My teacher said it wasn't nice to say what I said about Dad... But she still counted my work. I put it on our fridge at home!"  
Anakin's heart was melted, and he squeezed Ben tightly. "Oh, Ben, my star--you know Grandpa and I love you, more than all the stars in the galaxy."  
"I know," Ben replied, smiling so brightly and widely that his eyes squeezed shut, happiness radiated from his Force signature. Anakin's Force signature flowed more calmly, but with his own equal happiness.   
"Ben, come on. Help me get the bags upstairs, or we're not staying." Leia threatened good-naturedly, and Anakin helped Ben back to the ground, then watched as he scampered off after his mother, laughing and talking animatedly the whole way.  
After they'd disappeared from view, Obi-Wan was behind him, arms circling his waist. Obi-Wan moved the hair off the back of his neck and pressed his lips there in a sloppy kiss.   
"Mmm... How much time alone do you think Ben will give us?" Obi-Wan murmured, moving his kisses to the side of Anakin's neck and quietly enjoying the way that his other half melted into those kisses.   
"Mmm... This is probably the longest amount of time that we'll get," Anakin teased, masking Obi-Wan's hands on his stomach with his own.   
"Mm..." Obi-Wan chuckled and pulled Anakin back against him, swaying slightly. "You know, what Ben says is true, right? You really are a hero."   
Anakin smiled and leaned back into Obi-Wan's arms, begging for a kiss. "I don't care what I am, as long as I'm yours."  
Obi-Wan smiled fondly and closed the distance between their mouths with a heartfelt kiss. Twenty-seven years later and Anakin was still as sweet as ever.   
Obi-Wan reached up to caress the side of Anakin's face, and murmured, "right back at you, Ani," before they devolved into another kiss.   
It had taken Obi-Wan a while, and __a while may have been an understatement. Though affection blossomed in his heart from the moment that he held Luke and Leia in his arms, the rest of him had taken a while to catch up. His mind had still grappled with the loss of his Jedi identity. For the first few years of Luke and Leia's lives, Obi-Wan had felt as though he were being pulled in two.. Sure, Obi-Wan would read to Luke and Leia at night, cradle them in his arms, and curl up with Anakin, tracing the patterns of constellations on his chest until they fell asleep in their shared bed. He would make dinner, acquiescing to every small whim their children had, which would result in waffles and blue milk for dinner sometimes. (Anakin would always roll his eyes, then eat it all anyway, a small smile of amusement on his face.) Obi-Wan sat in the political meetings with Senator Organa, and he made some serious, and substantial policy changes. He helped Anakin decorate the entire house, and sometimes they even invited some of Obi-Wan’s colleagues who had children over for playdates and lunch. However, for the longest time, Obi-Wan had also gazed longingly out the window and up at the sky when he thought Anakin wouldn’t notice, would cringe when someone mentioned the Order in a meeting. He would leave the room if Anakin began to tell Luke and Leia a story about his and Obi-Wan’s adventures while serving the Order. He pushed the Force away, hardly even using it affectionately with Anakin, and tried to never think about his old life, because when he thought about it, he just couldn’t reconcile it. 

There was no climactic moment, no epiphany, no instance where Obi-Wan realised that he loved the quiet domesticity. It was looking at Anakin, still asleep in their bed, hair spilling across the pillow and sunlight streaming through the curtains, for the one hundredth time. It was Leia’s sticky hands on his face, it was Luke giving him and Anakin matching necklaces made of shells after they took a family trip to the beach. It was sitting in a meeting and being able to talk about his other half and children, not worrying who would hear, not worrying how much his Force signature pulsated with love. It was the gentle contentment that he realised he felt one evening, while sipping tea and watching Anakin, Luke, and Leia run around the family room, pretending to be pilots. As Obi-Wan processed his contentment, realised there was no latent longing or wistfulness for days gone by, he realised that he couldn’t distinctly remember the last time that he felt such a dissatisfaction, such a wistfulness. Sure, he remembered feeling that way, but he couldn’t remember when. And more importantly, he couldn’t imagine feeling that way again. 

He remembered that he had set down his half-full cup of tea on the table and had crossed the room to interrupt his family’s high stake rescue mission, grabbing Anakin and pulling him in for a hug. Anakin had flailed in surprise, but Obi-Wan had held on tight, burying his face into Anakin’s neck, and eventually Anakin’s arms had come to wrap around his waist, holding him just as tightly. He hadn’t said anything, but he hadn’t had to.  _ I love you I love you I love you.  _

He had knelt to hug Luke and Leia after that, though they hadn’t let him hold on for quite as long as Anakin had, as they were both still young and hyperactive. After they’d finally squirmed away from the embrace, Obi-Wan had smiled and stood up, wrapping an around Anakin’s waist.  _ Need a co-pilot?  _ He’d asked, and the smile that Anakin gave him in return still made him weak at the knees.  _ Always.  _

As he embraced his other half in their kitchen, Obi-Wan sent his Force signature out, prodding at the other realm as best as he could, something he did from time to time. Qui-Gon never appeared to him, but he hoped that maybe he could feel the messages that he sent.  _ I love my family--they are my destiny, and the highest honour I’ve ever had. Thank you, Master, not for teaching me how to use a lightsaber, but for a far more important lesson--the Force works in mysterious ways.  _ Obi-Wan gazed at Anakin and then leaned in for another kiss, stroking the side of his face. Not  _ The  _ Chosen One, but  _ His  _ Chosen One. 

He did choose Anakin, and he would, every day for the rest of his life and then some. He had been too blind, too foolish to know where he belonged before, and it had taken an accidental pregnancy to get him on the right path of destiny, but as Qui-Gon had always told him  _ The Force works in mysterious ways _ . The Force brought them together for a reason. Not only had the Force brought Anakin Skywalker into his life to make him a better Jedi, it had brought Luke and Leia Kenobi into his life to make him a better man. 

He kissed Anakin hard and they smiled against each other’s mouths, pulling away with joyful laughs when they heard Ben’s footsteps banging against the stairs. Obi-Wan stared into Anakin’s eyes, and Anakin stared back, their Force bond as strong as ever, almost physically palpitating with affection.  _ I love you I love you I love you. _

From beyond that realm, Qui-Gon Jinn could sense everything. He could sense Luke’s strong fate as a Jedi; he would be a great Jedi and he would save many creatures of the galaxy, and one day train a padawan of his own. He could sense Leia’s equally as strong fate as a Force-sensitive diplomat and general; her strong convictions and unwavering compassion would make it impossible for there to be a war she could ever lose. He could sense the strong life Forces that Anakin and Obi-Wan had instilled in their twins, the passions, the loves, the quiet strengths. He could sense Ben Kenobi Solo’s only-beginning destiny, and he could sense that he would follow in his mother’s footsteps, becoming a strong leader for resistance and change. He could sense that Ben could have great power as a Jedi, but not a great path. He could sense that it was not a path Ben would ever follow, and that Anakin was entirely to credit for that; his deep affections for his grandfather would prevent him for ever wanting to give up his family, as his Uncle Luke had done. He could sense the love, commitment, and understated serendipity that flowed easily between  Obi-Wan and Anakin, that always would flow between them. He could sense his once-apprentice’s Force signature. 

He smiled. 

There was balance in the Force. 

  
end

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Unconscious Design](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8081443) by [arnediadglanduath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arnediadglanduath/pseuds/arnediadglanduath)




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